Sweet Juliet: Part 2
by ChasedByTheShadows
Summary: Juliet Snape returns to Hogwarts, now a double agent like her father. If she can succeed in decieving the Dark Lord, she may just be able to survive. Rated for language and some adult material.
1. An Evening Vistor

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 1: An Evening Visitor**

**(A/N: Sooooo, when I said I'd have this out by March 1****st****, I totally meant April 24****th****. What can I say, other that PLEASE FORGIVE ME? Seriously, though, I've been super busy with everything I've got going on, not the least of which being musical. We're doing **_**Sweeney Todd**_** and it eats up a TON of my time. However, our last two shows are this weekend so I'm back! Here I present to you—the sequel to Sweet Juliet! Enjoy and review!)**

Rain was so odd to look at. It seemed to have no starting point, and all the tiny, individual droplets collected into one massive sheet of water the second they struck the ground. Little streams ran in smooth rivulets down Juliet's window and she reached out to touch them, pressing the very tips of her fingers to the glass.

It was a lot like people. With the glass as a shield, one could never quite reach those around them, and eventually they all started to blend into one, a nameless mass that stayed in the background, allowing her to watch it from afar. Only precious few were different, sliding silently through the minute crack at the base of her window and gazing up at her from the windowsill. She supposed these were like her friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Luna…Draco—the only ones who made it past the glass.

Juliet let out a sigh, resting her forehead against the cool surface of the window. It was June 26th—Juliet's fifteenth birthday. She hadn't been away from them for very long, but she missed them desperately already. With only Severus for company—she loved him dearly, but he wasn't particularly entertaining—the longing for people her own age only worsened every day.

She and Draco were to leave for their holiday in a few weeks. Severus would be giving her the final answer on whether she could go or not tonight, after her birthday dinner. She wasn't too hopeful. Unable to lie to her father any more than she had the previous year at Hogwarts, Juliet had told him everything—that Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy would not be there, and that they thought Blaise Zabini was accompanying Draco, not Juliet. She'd had to beg Severus for hours just to get him to consider the idea, and she hadn't dared to mention it since then.

The smell of pasta, Juliet's favorite dish and something she rarely had, drifted up the stairs, making her mouth water. If her father made her wait much longer, she'd bound down there to see what the holdup was.

As it turned out, there was no need for this. Moments later, Severus called his daughter down, his quiet voice echoing strangely through the small house. Juliet blew out the small candle on her nightstand, which had been dimly lighting her room. Juliet took the stairs two at a time, jumping the last five and landing lightly on the balls of her feet. She ran into the kitchen, excitement lighting up her dark eyes, and helped her father carry the last of the plates and silverware to the table.

"Hungry, Juliet?" asked Severus with his usual monotone, but with a small gleam of amusement in his eyes.

"Starving," she replied simply, beginning to shovel food onto her plate.

"Merlin, child," said Severus, obviously suppressing a smile. "Anyone looking in on us right now would think I never feed you." She grinned at her father, folding her hands politely and looking expectantly at him while he made up his own, much smaller plate. He rolled his eyes, knowing she was mocking him. "All right, stop looking at me like that. Eat."

"Thanks, Dad!" Juliet took a bit of her pasta and her eyes immediately widened in delight. "This is delicious!" Her expression suddenly changed to one of suspicion. "You can't cook to save your life… You used magic, didn't you?"

Severus only smirked. "Guilty."

"Well, anyway," said Juliet, spearing some more noodles with her fork, "it's amazing, so I won't complain."

"Ah, miracles really do happen." Juliet glared playfully, momentarily distracted from her longing for her friends and her apprehension at Severus' decision on her holiday with Draco. For the moment, she was content to just sit here and enjoy her father's company, witty banter and all.

For the rest of dinner, they talked about the incoming sixth and seventh year students, the ones who had received an Outstanding on their OWL's in Potions, and who would be taking Advanced Potion Making with Severus come September. He said the group seemed fairly promising, with the obvious exceptions here and there. The class was small, since only a few had performed well enough on their exams to be able to make it through.

Juliet wasn't particularly nervous for the OWL's. Sure, she was a little apprehensive since they could only be taken once, and her scores were final, but her father and the other Professors at Hogwarts had taught her well. She'd had no problem entering the fourth year class after being homeschooled for three years, and had even stayed a bit ahead of some of her peers.

When they had finished eating and cleaning the dishes, Severus sent Juliet into the sitting room, where she would open her gifts from him. He entered the room momentarily with three packages. One was rather small, while the other two were decently sized. She started with the larger ones.

The first was a series of books written by a popular magical author. It was based around the four founders of Hogwarts, a fictional account of their lives, but drawing from wizarding knowledge of what had really happened during their time. She'd had her eye on them since seeing them in Flourish and Blott's at the beginning of the summer.

The second was a new set of silver scales to replace her brass ones. They were beautiful and more sensitive than the ones she had, to make her potion brewing more accurate.

She opened the small box last. Inside it, resting on dark purple velvet, was a beautiful amulet. The chain was pure, gleaming silver, and from it dangled a symbol that Juliet was unfamiliar with. It was a circle, the metal glossed over in deep purple, with three silver petal-like shapes coming to meet in the center of it.

"It's a triquetra," said Severus quietly, gazing at the amulet. "It is meant to symbolize equality of body, mind, and soul and serve as a source of protection for the wearer."

"It's beautiful," Juliet replied. "But…protection from what?"

Severus was silent for a moment, his dark eyes never leaving the symbol in Juliet's hands. "I can't be sure. This amulet belonged to my grandmother, Aralina Prince. She left it to my mother, Eileen, and I kept it when she died. Now it's yours."

Juliet hugged her father tightly. "Thank you, Dad. For everything." A knock at the door broke them apart and Juliet busied herself with putting the amulet around her neck while Severus went to answer it. A man's voice floated in from the hall. It sounded familiar, but Juliet couldn't quite place where she'd heard it.

"Severus," he said, "how nice to see you. I apologize for calling on you so late."

"Come in, Goyle, you'll catch your death in that weather." Severus' voice was monotonous, guarded. The difference from the tone he'd had just minutes previous was striking. It took Juliet a moment to register the name he had called the man. Goyle. He must have been the father of Gregory Goyle, one of Draco's friends.

The two men stepped into the sitting room and Juliet looked up. She recognized the man's face immediately. He'd been there that night in the graveyard, and had been one of the first to remove his mask. This man had laughed mercilessly while the Dark Lord had tortured Harry, and the sight of him made Juliet's breath catch. She fought to keep the bile from rising in her through, to keep her face impassive and her breathing steady, but she could only think of one reason why a Death Eater would come to their house.

_The Dark Lord must know I'm not really his servant._

She gazed at the man, looking for any sort of sign that he was here to kill her. He only looked back at her calmly, even nodded his head politely in greeting.

"It's nice to see you again, Miss Snape."

She blinked. "You as well."

"Now, Goyle," said Severus, motioning to a chair and coming over to sit by Juliet on the couch once more, "what business do you have with me?" Goyle sat down, folding his hands.

"Information. I've been told to pass on a message to you from the Dark Lord. He's made contact with several of our companions who are in prison. He won't say how he did it, but then…it's not our place to question. A mass breakout from Azkaban is being planned."

Severus raised his eyebrows. "Oh? And how is this going to be accomplished?"

"Couldn't tell you if I wanted to," said Goyle with a shrug. "Only precious few know that information. I've been told to tell you, in case some of the escapees need to take refuge here. You're one of about five or six who has been notified. Crabbe, Dawlish, and I have been told too, but I'm not sure who else."

Severus nodded slowly, his muscles tensing ever so slightly. Juliet could feel it, but she knew that Goyle would not be able to tell. "Thank you, Goyle. Juliet and I are happy to serve the Dark Lord in any way we can."

The second that Goyle left, Severus rounded on Juliet. She couldn't imagine why he'd be angry at _her_, but she was wary nonetheless. Her father's temper wasn't exactly mild.

"Juliet—"

"Look, Dad, I—"

"Stop talking, Juliet! You're going on your holiday with the Malfoy boy."


	2. Neighbors and Late Night Chats

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 2: Neighbors and Late Night Chats**

Juliet had never wanted to be away from her father—just for a few minutes—more than she did right at that moment. Right after he'd dropped the bombshell that she was going on her holiday, he'd bombarded her with a million rules and stipulations. She wasn't sure she'd even be able to remember all of them. The second she'd been able to slip away, she ran to the house of the neighbor on the right.

There was an old Muggle couple who lived inside—Mr. And Mrs. Heraty. When Juliet was small and had been playing outside, they had always greeted her and even brought her sweets on occasion. She knocked quickly on their door, glancing over her shoulder to make sure her father hadn't noticed her exit. With the state his temper was in right then, she didn't particularly want to set him off any more than he already was.

Mrs. Heraty opened the door a moment later, looking confused. "Juliet, dear!" she exclaimed, her brow furrowing. "What are you doing here? You look simply terrible, my dear, and you're soaked through! Come inside now, hop to it." Juliet smiled in gratitude and stepped over the threshold. She hadn't even bothered to put her coat on before she'd run out of the house. She stood awkwardly on the Heratys' doormat, her clothes and skin dripping.

Mr. Heraty was in an armchair in front of the television set, looking just as perplexed as his wife. "Edna, is that Miss Juliet? Whatever are you doing here, young lady?"

"I'm so sorry to just call on you unexpectedly like this, Mr. and Mrs. Heraty," Juliet said, inclining her head apologetically. "It's just that I really need to use a phone, and as you know, my father and I don't have one."

Mrs. Heraty smiled, taking Juliet's hand and tugging her towards the wall phone in the kitchen. Juliet tried to protest, saying that she didn't want to get the carpet or the kitchen tile wet, but Mrs. Heraty told her to hush up and not worry her little head about it.

"Now go on, deary, make your call. I'll just be right out in the sitting room with Roger." As Juliet dialed Hermione's number (she was Muggle-born, and so the only one of Juliet's friends who knew how to work a telephone properly—Juliet only knew because Dumbledore found them fascinating and had taught her many years previous), she heard Mrs. Heraty sigh as she sat down. Her voice drifted into the kitchen as she whispered to her husband.

"She's such a sweet girl, but what a curious father she's got..."

Mr Heraty grunted. "I'll say. I don't think I've ever seen the man smile. I'm surprised the child even knows how. Her father does nothing but scowl."

Mrs. Heraty lowered her voice even more. "You don't think he's cruel to the child, do you? That would just break my heart."

"Now Edna, don't be ridiculous. We've never seen any signs of mistreatment, and unless we do, we're not going to bother ourselves talking about it any more."

Usually, comments like the one's the Heratys were making would have upset Juliet, but she found it hard to be angry at the old couple. They genuinely cared about her, and were just worrying themselves over her safety. She supposed no one really knew her father like she did, so assumptions like those were to be expected. Severus' demeanor towards anyone but her was cold at best.

"Hello?" The voice on the other end of the line made Juliet jump, snapping her back to where she was. It took her a moment to respond, in which time the other caller had to greet her again. "Hello, is anyone there?" It was Mrs. Granger, by the sound of it.

"Oh, yes, I'm sorry. May I speak to Hermione, please?"

"Of course, may I ask who's calling?"

"I'm Juliet, a friend from school."

There was a pause on the other end of the line. "...Oh, I see."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Granger, is there a problem?"

The woman made a little noise of surprise and then seemed to come back to herself. "Of course not dear, my apologies. I was just surprised..."

"Surprised?"

Mrs. Granger sounded embarrassed then, and Juliet smiled slightly. She couldn't imagine how difficult it must be for the Grangers to accept the world that their daughter had become a part of. They were entitled to a little unintentional rudeness.

"Yes, I just...didn't know that...well, um..._wizards_ knew how to use telephones."

Juliet let out a small laugh before recovering. Mrs. Granger had said the word 'wizards' as though it was awkward for her to utter. "It's not a dirty word, Mrs. Granger, I assure you. And actually, I was taught to use a phone by our Headmaster, Professor Dumbledore. He finds certain non-magical devices fascinating and things that all witches and wizards should know how to use the most basic ones."

Mrs. Granger laughed then as well, her tone much more comfortable than it had been. "Of course, dear. But still, I apologize for my rudeness. I'll go and get Hermione for you."

Hermione's voice came a moment later. "Juliet? Is everything all right?" She sounded worried, and Juliet bit her lip. She really didn't want to worry her friend, but she wasn't sure who else to talk to. Hermione was the most level-headed (not to mention the cleverest), and one of the few who knew all the details about Juliet's situation.

"My father and I had a visitor tonight. An unwelcome visitor."

Apparently Hermione knew exactly what that meant. "Go on."

"He...brought some bad news." Juliet didn't think it was wise to tell Hermione exactly what Goyle had said. The less she knew, the safer she was. "By the way my father reacted, I'm guessing that he thinks I'll be in danger if things go the way that the visitor said they will."

"What makes you say that?"

"Well...he's sending me on my holiday with Draco."

The line was deadly silent for a moment, and Juliet feared that the call had dropped or that Hermione hung up. Just as she was about to ask her friend if she was still there, Hermione spoke again. "So you're telling me that your father thinks it's safer to send you away for two weeks with your boyfriend than keep you at home? Things must be bad, then." Juliet was beyond grateful that Hermione hadn't screamed or yelled or anything of the like. She'd been perfectly calm when she'd responded.

Thank God for good old, level-headed Hermione Granger."

The girls talked for a few more minutes before bidding each other farewell and telling one another to be safe. Juliet re-entered the Heratys' sitting room, where Mrs. Heraty offered her a warm, clean towel. She took it gratefully and wrapped it around her shoulders. The soft material started to calm her shivers instantly.

She gazed at the couple and they gazed back at her. Edna Heraty was a tiny little woman, not even five feet tall. She was hunched with age, making her even shorter. Her warm brown eyes were large and kind, filled with all the affection of a doting grandmother. Juliet knew she had quite a few grandchildren, as she'd seen them running about the yard a time or two.

Roger Heraty was a foot or so taller than his wife, his hands calloused and his jaw set. His eyes weren't as kind as his wife's—though they weren't unkind—but they were imbued with wisdom. He was a battle-hardened war veteran, and had gained all of the knowledge of the world in his many years.

Juliet stayed for a cup of tea, and then rose to leave, thanking the Heratys sincerely for their help and their hospitality. Just as she was about to step out the door, Mrs. Heraty called after her.

"Juliet, dearie, if there's anything we can ever do for you, we're right next door. Always remember that."

Juliet gave the old lady a small half smile. "Thank you, Mrs. Heraty."

…...

When Juliet was back in her bedroom, dressed in warm, dry pajamas and staring into the candle she had lit, she thought about the advice Hermione had given her when they were on the phone.

_"Well, in regards to your visitor, don't do anything different than you've been doing. You don't want to draw unnecessary attention to yourself. In regards to your holiday with Draco..."_

They had reached the part of the conversation that made Juliet the most nervous. She had known Hermione would be helpful when it came to talking about the Death Eaters and doing what was logical, but when it came to her heart, to Draco, the boy she loved...she could only help herself. Hermione had only had one thing to say on the subject.

_"...just...don't do anything stupid."_

Well, what was stupid? Was kissing him stupid? Telling him she loved him? _Showing _him she loved him? She certainly wasn't ready to...give herself to Draco... Was she?

_Oh good lord, this is ridiculous, _she thought, pulling a pillow over her face. _I've never been this confused in my life._

She reached up and played with the amulet around her neck. She wished she could talk to him about her feelings sometimes, but that would be beyond strange. Girls didn't generally talk to their fathers about such things, and one certainly didn't talk to Severus Snape about them. She didn't have a mother to talk to, so when her friends weren't around, she had to keep everything bottled up.

Around midnight, just as she was about to drift off to sleep, there was a knock on the door. Juliet called drowsily for her father to come in, dragging herself into a sitting position and hugging her pillow to her chest.

"Hey, Dad," she said, her voice tinged with a bit of nervousness as Severus entered the room and sat down on the edge of Juliet's bed. He heaved a sigh, running a hand down his face. When a solid minute went by in silence, Juliet shifted uncomfortable and opened her mouth to speak, but Severus cut her off.

"There are three things that I didn't get the chance to tell you downstairs, Juliet."

"All right, sure. Go ahead."

The scowl on Severus' face was unmoving, but Juliet knew that it wasn't her that he was angry at. He was angry at their situation, the circumstances, everything really, but not her. He could never be angry at her for very long.

"Firstly, I will send enough Floo Powder with you for you to call me on the Floo Network three times a day, _every day, _on your holiday. If you fail to do this even once, I will personally come get you and bring you home. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Second, as soon as you return, we will be traveling to the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, and you will be staying there for the remainder of the summer. I will be there for meetings a few times a week."

Juliet smiled at her father and leaned her head on his shoulder. Severus held completely still. He wasn't relaxed, as he wasn't particularly familiar with affectionate human contact outside of Juliet, but he wasn't tense either. He was simply there. He was there for his daughter, as she was there for him. It was the way their relationship had been from the start. They loved each other, as a father and daughter should, even if he didn't meet the expectations of anyone else in the world. All that mattered was that he met—and surpassed—Juliet's expectations.

"And what was the third, Dad?"

"I love you, Juliet."

She smiled as he got up to leave. "I love you too, Dad."

Content, and momentarily forgetting about all her worries, Juliet blew out her candle and snuggled into bed as Severus returned to his own bedroom. She could spend her time being nervous later. Now, all she wanted to do was sleep and look forward to her holiday.


	3. On Holiday

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 3: On Holiday**

**(A/N: So I completely failed to realize that I hadn't updated this story in over a month :( I'm so sorry! I'm trying to get this chapter and a chapter of I Who Have Nothing (if you're an Ouran High School Host Club fan, go check it out!) done today before I go to work, and then outline the rest of the two stories so I can be a little more structured in the future :D Anyway, enjoy the chapter!)**

Juliet had only traveled by Portkey a handful of times, and she still wasn't quite used to the unpleasant sensation of having all of your insides tugged in one direction. So it was with understandable hesitancy that she placed her hand upon the glowing blue matchbox. She clutched her suitcase tightly in the other, offering her father a smile and a yelled "I love you" one last time before she was whisked away.

The landing wasn't particularly enjoyable either, especially since, as she soon found out, she was being deposited on a cold, hard marble floor. Juliet had kept her eyes squeezed shut the whole time, but they flew open in surprise when she hit the ground. She let out a small _oohf _of pain, knowing she'd be sore later, but this was soon forgotten as she took in her surroundings.

Juliet had known the Malfoys were wealthy, but she'd never quite seen the extent of it until now. She was in some sort of huge, grand foyer, complete with the oh-so-comfortable-to-land-on white marble floors, an enormous golden chandelier high above her head, and some of the most intricately carved wooden furniture she had ever seen.

There was an open doorway directly ahead of her framed by thick purple drapes. The double front doors to her rear were a warm, dark brown, rounded at the top, with gold handles. Off to her right was a small, two-person sofa. It looked like one of those olden-time ones that one might see in the home of a nineteenth century aristocrat or a wealthy old lady. The cushions upon it were the same purple as that of the drapes. Next to the sofa was an end table, its colour matching that of the doors. Upon closer inspection, she saw that tiny dragons were carved into the legs, winding their way up to the top and spitting fire. Grand, curved marble staircases framed either side of the room.

Juliet got to her feet, her dark eyes so wide she thought she might never blink them again. If she did, she was almost afraid that everything she was seeing might just disappear. She checked quickly to make sure her suitcase was still intact. Her head finally coming back to her, she thought she ought to check and see if Draco had arrived.

She found him in the sitting room just beyond the foyer. It was connected to a large, modernized kitchen. It didn't look much different than a standard Muggle kitchen, except for the fact that all of the utensils and appliances had apparently been bewitched to perform tasks on their own.

Draco was sitting on a sofa similar to the one in the foyer, but this one was larger and had blood red cushions instead of purple. He had a book in his lap but he wasn't reading it. Upon Juliet's entry he had twisted around and was beaming up at her. When she had finally regained her bearings and the reality sunk in—the reality that she had him all to herself for the next two weeks—she gave him a wide grin in return.

In one motion, Draco crossed the room towards her and gathered her up in his arms. Juliet smiled into his chest, sighing contentedly. It was the first time she had spent time with anyone but her father (with the exception of Mr. Goyle's visit and her short time with Mr. and Mrs. Heraty) all summer. She looked up at Draco and he gave her a soft kiss on the lips.

"You have no idea how happy I am to be here, Draco."

He leaned his forehead against hers, pulling her closer to him. "I missed you, too," he said quietly, returning her unspoken sentiment.

After they had managed to pry themselves apart and sat down on barstools in the kitchen to get something to eat, Draco began to tell Juliet about his summer. He had spent most of it practicing Quidditch with Blaise, Crabbe, and Goyle, but had gone to visit cousins of his in Tuscany for a week as well.

"What about you?" he asked finally. "What have you been up to?"

Juliet shrugged. "Nothing really. It's just been my dad and me, so I've really only been doing housework and attempting to do my summer homework.. Occasionally I walk into town to do grocery shopping, but that's about it. My summer's been pretty uneventful until now."

Draco didn't know about Juliet's situation, so she thought it best not to mention that Gregory Goyle's father had stopped by or why her father had agreed to let her go on the trip.

As though he had read her mind, Draco's next question was one that Juliet had spent hours coming up with an acceptable answer for. "So why do you think that your father decided to let you come on holiday with me? After you said that you told him that my parents wouldn't be here, I was almost certain he'd say no."

"So was I," Juliet replied, just as she'd rehearsed in front of her mirror. "When I asked him why he changed his mind he was pretty vague about it, but I'm sure it has something to do with what's going on in our neighborhood."

She had been purposefully unclear, and Draco took the bait right away. "Really?" he asked, sounding concerned. "What's been going on?"

"A lot of muggings and break-ins. The area is in the process of bringing in more law enforcement, but until then I guess it made my dad nervous to have me around." Juliet didn't particularly like lying to Draco, but she couldn't tell him the truth. As long as the subject was never brought up again, everything would be fine.

Draco, bless him, didn't so much as bat an eye at her explanation. "Well, I'm glad you're away from there then. Almost as glad as I am to have you here with me for two whole weeks," he added with a smile, winding his arm around her waist.

Juliet grinned, trying not to feel guilty for keeping secrets from her boyfriend, and placed a kiss on his cheek.

"I'm glad too."

Just then, there was a small noise of running feet, and the tiniest house elf that Juliet had ever seen hurried into the room. She was clad only in a pillowcase, and her golden eyes were enormous.

"Young Master Malfoy," she squeaked in such a high-pitched voice that Juliet was sure that dogs from miles around could hear it, "Lani has finished preparing the lady guest's sleeping quarters, as you ordered!"

"Thank you, Lani," Draco replied with a short nod. He gave the little elf a smile, which surprised Juliet. She had supposed that Draco, raised in such a wealthy, rigid environment, would think of house elves as below him, but he seemed rather fond of this one.

"Lani has been with our family since I was just a baby," Draco explained when Juliet inquired about the elf. "She was the only friend I had before I went to Hogwarts...until I met you in Ollivander's, of course." Juliet smiled at the memory, picturing her eleven-year-old self meeting Draco. Back then he had slicked back his platinum hair and always wore stiff, neat clothing. Now he allowed his hair to fall around his face and frame it gracefully, with his long fringe always stopping just at his eyebrows. He'd also taken more to wearing jeans and trainers instead of dress pants and shiny black shoes.

The room that Juliet would be staying in was absolutely gorgeous. There was a huge bed with a soft, fluffy white comforter and assorted black and white pillows trimmed in silver. There was a wardrobe in the corner that was large enough to fit everything she had packed, and then some. Next to the wardrobe was a window, which made up a great majority of the far wall. Walking over to it, Juliet gazed out at the ocean. The cool floor beneath her feet was made of the same dark hardwood as the furniture she had seen down in the foyer. Across from the bed there was a stone fireplace that she could use to call her father.

Draco was grinning at her when she turned back around to face him.

"Do you like it?" he asked. He was seemingly confident, but she had a sneaking suspicion that he was just a little worried she wouldn't.

Juliet smiled, walking back over to Draco and winding her arms around his neck. "I love it."

…...

It seemed to both Draco and Juliet that their holiday was flying by. Their days were spent swimming down at the beach and lazing around the house. When Juliet had told him how amazing the place was, he had only grinned and told her that if the summer house impressed her, she should see where he lived year-round. Juliet couldn't even begin to fathom the enormity of the Malfoy estate. Growing up at Spinner's End, she was sure that the mansion that Draco called home would be incredibly overwhelming for her.

On the seventh day, just as Juliet was cutting off the Floo connection with her father, a loud clap of thunder sounded outside. Juliet sighed. They'd had such beautiful weather up until that point, it was bound to storm sometime. Hopefully it wouldn't carry over into the next morning and prevent them from going to the beach.

Rising from her knees and placing the tin of Floo Powder back upon the mantle, Juliet dusted her hands off on her pajama bottoms and crossed the room to the door. She knew where Draco's room was, of course, but over the course of their stay in the Malfoy summer house, she'd avoided going in it. She hadn't been sure what kind of message she wanted to send, and she certainly didn't want to convey the wrong thing.

Now, however, seemed like the right time to venture there. She wasn't sure why, but something was telling her to go and pay Draco a visit. His room wasn't far down the hallway from hers, and she was standing in front of his door in less than a minute. Taking a deep breath and gathering her courage, Juliet raised a hand and knocked on the door.

Draco answered a moment later, clad only in flannel pajama pants, and no shirt. Juliet was suddenly very conscious of her own overlarge, hole-ridden t-shirt. It was something she'd had as long as she could remember, and the front was emblazoned with the Holyhead Harpies' logo. Draco didn't seem to notice her attire, however.

"Juliet? What are you doing here? You haven't come to my room this whole trip."

She shrugged, allowing him to lead her inside. "I just thought I'd come spend some more time with you. It's always nice to be with someone else when it storms."

They sat down in a small sitting area in the corner of Draco's room, complete with a sofa and coffee table, and Draco called for Lani to bring them up two mugs of hot chocolate. When the house elf was gone and they were both sipping their drinks, they simply sat there for a moment, listening to the sound of the rain and enjoying each others' company. After a minute or so of silence, Draco set his mug down on the table and turned to Juliet. She followed his lead and did the same.

"You know..." Draco began hesitantly, which was so unlike him, "if you wanted, you could...sleep in here tonight." Juliet blinked slowly and Draco spoke up again before she could respond. "It doesn't have to be anything more than that, of course. Just sleeping."

Juliet furrowed her brow, considering the way he'd worded his sentence. He had said that it didn't _have _to be anything more, but not necessarily that it _wouldn't_ be.

_I think I can live with that, _she thought, looking back up at him.

"Sure," she replied. "That would be nice."

They climbed into bed, Draco taking Juliet in his arms and pulling her flush up against him. She rested her head on his chest, relishing in the warmth and feeling that was returning to her previously chilled bare feet. Draco's chin was pressed against the top of her head, their legs laying right next to each other.

Juliet had to admit, it was nice to just lay there with him. She didn't quite know yet if she wanted things to go any further but for that moment, she was content. Every once in a while Draco would shift and lightly kiss the top of her head. It seemed that, though they were certainly comfortable, there was still a certain tension there between them and they would never be able to relax quite enough to drift off to sleep. After a while, however, Juliet's eyelids were too heavy to keep open and the sound of Draco's rhythmic breathing helped her to give in to her exhaustion.

…...

Every night from that point on, Juliet crept into Draco's room just after midnight, when Lani was sure to be asleep, and slept in his bed with him. They only slept, doing nothing more, but on the final night of their trip, when they were both about to retire for the evening, something was different between them. Draco's goodnight kiss to her was more urgent than normal, and his hands lingered longer on her waist than they otherwise would have before he left to let her go don pajamas and call her father.

Juliet's mind was racing when she entered Draco's room that night. It was just like all the others, a shirtless Draco waiting with two mugs of hot chocolate and a smile, but something felt not quite right. Their conversation was different—not strained, per se, but seemingly more rushed. It was as though they both wanted to get it out of the way so they could crawl into bed.

When their hot chocolate was finished, Draco placed one hand on Juliet's cheek and the other on her waist so that he could draw her closer to him. He placed his lips on hers, and the kiss started out like the kisses she was used to—soft, gentle, and innocent. Suddenly, though, it was changing into something else, their lips pressing harder and working with more urgency than either of them were used to.

And then, before she could even break away to draw in a breath, Juliet was straddling Draco's lap, her hands fisted into his hair and his firmly clenching her hips. In one fluid motion Draco stood up, making sure Juliet's legs were locked firmly around his waist. He grasped her around the middle and all of a sudden she was falling onto something soft, Draco's weight pressing her down.

_Oh no, no, no, I'm not...but yes...but I'm not ready...oh, yes...no...yes, yes... _Her thoughts were a jumbled, incoherent mess that Juliet couldn't begin to make sense of even if her life depended on it. All she knew was that if Draco stopped kissing her neck, she'd lose her mind.

Juliet didn't know if she was ready, but she'd be damned if she didn't want to.

So she let it happen. Pushing aside her conscience and her inhibitions, she let go and allowed it to happen.

Everything moved in a blur. It wasn't quite like she imagined it at first. Frantic kissing and clothes flying, frenzied touching and then pain...she hadn't known it would hurt like that. She grit her teeth and pushed on and then suddenly it was different. It didn't hurt quite as much and her eyes rolled back. Heavy breathing, violent movement...and the pain slowly gave way to the pleasure until it was no more.

And at that moment, she could feel no regret.

**(A/N: I know some of you are going to get angry about this, but please don't hate me too much! I know fifteen seems a bit young for this, but it does happen, and it happens with more and more frequency. It happened to me, and it helped to shape me into who I am. That's partially what I'm trying to do with Juliet here. I have other reasons as well, ones that tie directly into the plot. So I'm sorry if this offended anyone but it was a necessary evil :) Please review!)**


	4. 12 Grimmauld Place

**Sweet Juliet****  
****Chapter 4: 12 Grimmauld Place**

_-Two Weeks Later-_

The house was certainly...decrepit. Juliet really couldn't think of any other word for it. She usually wasn't one to judge, having grown up on Spinners End, but this place looked as though it hadn't been able to support life for a good many years.  
Nonetheless, Juliet couldn't quell her feelings of excitement as she and her father walked up to the door. It had felt like ages since she'd seen Harry, Ron, or Hermione. She'd have to wait until the new term started to see Neville and Luna, of course, but she'd take what she could get for the time being.

Ron's mother greeted them in the hall when they entered the house. She looked a little warily at Severus but gave Juliet a kind, warm smile, reaching out to shake her hand.  
"You must be Juliet," she said. "Ron and Hermione have told me so much about you, dear. I've been looking forward to meeting you."  
Juliet accepted the gesture, giving her a shy grin in return. With people her own age, she was fine, but meeting new adults made her nervous. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."  
When Mrs. Weasley spoke again, her voice took on a sort of motherly tone. "Well, dear, the other children are upstairs, last door on the right." Juliet thanked Mrs. Weasley, gave her father a quick kiss on the cheek-he was staying for the Order meeting, so she'd see him again before he left-and proceeded to all but sprint up the stairs.  
She heard the twins first, then Ginny yelling back at them, and suddenly she couldn't get there fast enough. Not bothering to knock, she threw open the door and was greeted with the welcome sight of Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, and Ginny.  
"Juliet!" exclaimed Hermione, jumping up to embrace her friend. "We didn't know you'd arrived!"

Juliet beamed. "Well, I'm here! It's so great to see all of you guys." Hermione was the only one of the group who knew that Juliet had gone on holiday with Draco, and thankfully, she could be trusted to keep quiet. Juliet didn't want the others to know, and she certainly did _not_ want to talk about the trip.

Looking around, Juliet noticed that someone was missing. "Where's Harry?" Everyone looked away guiltily, shifting around a little bit. Fred opened his mouth—presumably to change the subject—but Juliet cut him off.

"Guys, come on. Where is he? Is something wrong?"

Hermione bit her lip. "Harry...isn't here, and he doesn't know where we are. I assume he thinks we're at the Burrow."

"What?" asked Juliet. "Why wouldn't you guys tell him where this place is? I think of all people, Harry should be the one to know where the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix is."

"Harry doesn't even know _what_ the Order of the Phoenix is," spoke up Ron. "No one's told him anything. And before you get all upset, we have a good reason... Or, at least, someone does. Dumbledore asked us to keep him in the dark."

Juliet furrowed her brow, thoroughly baffled. Why would the Headmaster, who'd always gone to great lengths to protect Harry and keep him informed, suddenly want to completely cut him off from his friends and the people working against Voldemort?

"Dumbledore?" she voiced aloud. "_Albus _Dumbledore asked you to lie to Harry?"

"We haven't lied," replied Hermione, unconvincingly. "We've just been rather vague is all."

Juliet sighed. "All right, then. I suppose if Dumbledore thinks it's best..."

Trying to push thoughts of Harry from her mind, Juliet sat down in between Ron and Hermione and tried to strike up a conversation. Before long, they were all laughing, just like always, and Juliet couldn't keep the smile off of her face. It was so nice to be back in the company of her friends.

Around half past six, Mrs. Weasley called everyone down for supper. They had to help set the table, but as Juliet was helping Hermione set out plates and silverware, she noticed her father looking at her expectantly from the entryway to the dining room. Excusing herself, she hurried over to him and he led her out into the front hall.

"What's wrong, Dad?" she asked. "Aren't you staying for supper?"

He shook his head sharply. Juliet could tell by the look in his eyes and the way his mouth was set that something during the meeting had made him angry, but she chose not to ask. He wouldn't tell her even if she did.

"Juliet," he said quickly, voice barely above a whisper, "listen closely. I won't see you again—outside of when I attend meetings—until the new term starts. I know the Granger girl knows about our situation, but you are not to tell another soul. Understand?" When she had nodded her assent, Severus continued. "Now, you won't be bothered by Death Eaters here, so I want you to try and keep them completely off your mind. I won't have you worrying yourself sick."

"I promise, Dad." She bestowed a tight hug upon him. Severus returned the embrace, but she could feel him looking over her shoulder, watching to see if anyone was approaching. It wouldn't do for him to seem weak in front of Order members or any of his students, and that's how he perceived being affectionate—weakness.

"Be safe, Juliet. I'll see you when the term starts."

She smiled, kissing him on the cheek. "I will, Dad. I love you."

"I love you, too."

He left, black robes billowing behind him as he shut the door. Juliet's smile fell after he Apparated. It would only be a month or so, but she would miss him. At least she was safe here, and in the company of people who cared about her.

"See you soon, Dad."

**(A/N: Here's the first of the daily chapters that I promised! Let me know what you think! Also, I'm curious about something. Who do you all think Juliet should end up with at the end of Juliet: Part 4? Here are the options:**

**-Draco**

**-Harry**

**-Ron**

**-Fred**

**-Other (name and explain reasoning)**

**Let me know in a review and I'll post the results at the end of the week.)**

**Love,**

**ChasedByTheShadows**


	5. The Godfather of a Dear Friend

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 5: The Godfather of a Dear Friend**

**(A/N: Here's the second of my daily updates :D Gosh, I'm so tired...Time to finish my AP English homework, then sleepy time :P)**

Juliet had always been taught not to stare, but with this man, she couldn't help herself. She'd seen him before, but it was certainly not in person. No, the only times she'd ever seen this man were when his face had been plastered, day after day, upon the front page of _The Daily Prophet_.

As far as she'd known, Sirius Black was a convicted murderer and madman who had spent twelve years in Azbakan before escaping, and that there was a monumental bounty on his head. She'd never mentioned him to her father, because she knew that talking of a criminal would only upset him, but now her curiosity was piqued. No, perhaps curious wasn't the proper word.

She was downright _baffled. _Why was there a murderer sitting down to supper with them in the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, looking so content and at home?

Ron happened to be standing closest to Juliet when she spotted Black, so she tugged lightly on his sleeve, jerking her head towards the hall to signal that she wanted to talk to him privately. Ron, though he looked rather confused, followed her out of the dining room.

"What is it, Juliet?" he asked. "Is something wrong?"

"Just wondering about something," she replied, trying to sound nonchalant, "could you perhaps explain to me why Sirius Black is sitting in there and no one is cocking an eyebrow?"

Ron's forehead creased for a moment as he listened to her question, but slowly realization dawned on him. "Oh, that's right. You don't know that Sirius is innocent. He's not the one who killed all those Muggles or betrayed Harry's parents. He was actually Harry's dad's best mate."

Instead of resolving Juliet's confusing, Ron had only succeeded in befuddling her further. "He's...innocent? Who _did_ commit the crimes he was accused of, then? I mean, if what you're saying is true, _someone_ had to frame him."

"It was Wormtail. I can't believe we didn't tell you any of this, Juliet. Sorry about that."

Juliet didn't listen to much of what Ron had said after the first sentence. That name... Memories of that night in the graveyard that had been suppressed came flooding to the forefront of her consciousness. Wormtail...he was the one who had performed the ceremony. He had maliciously taken Harry's blood...she had watched him cut off his own hand. He was the one who had brought the Dark Lord back.

"...and Sirius is Harry's godfather. I think that's everything." Juliet hadn't really been aware that Ron was still talking, but his last few words caught her attention. Sirius Black was Harry's godfather.

She'd been at the Headquarters of the Order for barely over an hour, and already she was discovering things that she never would have imagined. In just a moment, she'd be sitting down to supper with a man who was accused of, but framed, for murder, who happened to be the godfather of her dear friend. The same friend whose parents the man had allegedly sold out to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

Insanity. Pure insanity.

Juliet was seated in between Hermione and Ginny for supper, not too far away from Black. He gazed at her peculiarly as they began to eat, appraising her as one might an item they were interested in purchasing. Juliet didn't particularly enjoy the scrutiny, but she said nothing. After all, she'd been doing the same thing to him not ten minutes earlier.

"So," said Black after a while, gazing intently at Juliet, "you're the daughter of Severus Snape. Your dad and I were in the same year at school, you know. I wasn't aware until Molly informed me that you'd be staying here that he had any children."

"Yes, well, he has me," Juliet replied, allowing Black to interpret her statement anyway he pleased. She sighed and decided to attempt polite conversation. After all, it was Black's house that she was living in. "I didn't know you were in the same year, though. Were you and my father friends?"

Black gave a ghost of a smile, as though recalling something that he had meant to forget. "Not exactly."

It was vague, but Juliet could guess what Black meant. She knew that James Potter had not been particularly kind to her father when they were in school, and then of course there was Lily Evans...and if Black really was Potter's best mate, then it was most likely safe to assume that he hadn't gotten on very well with Severus either. She just sincerely hoped that he hadn't directly taken part in tormenting him.

_This is Harry's godfather...I wonder if he misses Harry as much as I do right now_.

Harry had written to Juliet a number of times, but she'd ignored his letters, fearing that she might slip up and say something that she wasn't meant to. She hated the orders that Dumbledore had given them, but she would heed them nonetheless.

It was just difficult knowing that Harry was alone, virtually without contact from the magical world or his friends, and completely in the dark as to what the people he cared about were doing. It was difficult for any wizard to be cut off from the world of magic, let alone a tumultuous teenager. Juliet wanted nothing more than to tell Harry everything, but she had to continue to restrain herself.

She only hoped Dumbledore would soon have a change of heart.

**(A/N: Kind of short, I know, but it's very, very late, and I'm exhausted. I still have AP English to do as well. Night, everyone!)**


	6. Nightmares and Lies

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 6: Nightmares and Lies**

**(A/N: So this was supposed to be posted yesterday, but my computer was down—I've had the same crappy laptop for six years—so I couldn't get it up. I'm posting it today, but to make up for it, I'll be posting both chapters seven and eight tomorrow. Double whammy :D Enjoy and review!)**

_He knew. Without quite knowing how, Juliet knew that he had somehow found out. It was only a matter of time before he came for her. Her fate would come with a swiftness, hard and fast. All she could do now was try to come to terms with it. To try to run would be futile._

_ She was back in her own living room, at Spinners End, but Severus was nowhere to be seen._

_ "Dad?" Her voice sound far away, like someone whispering from across a room. How cliché. She called for her father again and again, trying to raise her voice, but no substantial noise would emerge from her throat. "Dad? Dad, where are you?"_

_ She raced up the stairs, fearing the worst. It seemed her limbs were made of lead, so heavy and difficult to move, but she had to push forward. She had to find her father. _

_ The smell of blood was overwhelming. Its effects were so dizzying that it almost sent Juliet stumbling to the floor, but she forced her feet to keep moving. One in front of the other, repeat, one in front of the other, repeat, find your father, find him, find him..._

_ 'This,' the voice came from all around her, hissing like a malevolent serpent, 'this is your punishment. This is what happens when I am lied to.' _

_ 'No!' She meant to scream, but found she could not. She was paralyzed. No, she was suffocating. Something was constricting her, forcing the air from her lungs and not allowing her to take in anymore. _

_ 'Kill, kill, kill the liar!'_

_ The last thing she saw before darkness engulfed her was her father's lifeless black eyes, staring off at something she could not see. _

_ 'Kill the liar...'_

Juliet shot up, shaking violently, eyes wide as saucers. She took in enormous, deep gulps of air. It seemed that her dream had caused her to actually stop breathing. Glancing warily over at Hermione and Ginny, Juliet was relieved to find that both of them were still deeply asleep, their chests rising and falling in slow, even patterns.

She tried to steady her breathing, taking in long, dilatory breaths. It seemed she couldn't fill her lungs enough, as though she feared that she'd never again find breathable air. Juliet looked over at Ginny's bedside clock and found that it was nearly five in the morning.

_At least it's not the middle of the night. I don't have to try to go back to sleep. _

She rose as quietly as possible from her bed and crept towards the door. She didn't expect that anyone would be up at that hour, so she didn't bother with a dressing gown. When she had successfully shut the door behind her without rousing either of the sleeping girls, she began to make her way to the kitchen. Perhaps a bit of coffee would clear her mind.

When Juliet arrived in the large dining room, she found that she was not alone. Ron sat in one of the chairs at the table, staring into a seemingly empty mug. He didn't notice Juliet's presence for a moment, but looked up in surprise when she came and sat next to him.

"Up early, Ron? I have to say, I'm shocked."

Ron granted her with a small half-smile, but she could tell he wasn't really listening. He seemed to be lost in thought—something that was in and of itself unusual for the redhead—and was looking into his mug as though the cold remnants of his coffee might tell him what he wanted to know.

"What's on your mind, Weasley?" asked Juliet after a moment of silence. "Anything I can help with?"

Ron made a small noise of what she supposed was amusement. "Maybe. I assume you've been deprived of sleep for the same reasons I have."

_I seriously doubt it. _Juliet kept her thoughts to herself, instead deciding to humor her friend.

"What might that be?"

Ron looked up at her in surprise, as though the answer was completely obvious and she was a fool not to see it. Admittedly, Juliet _should _have been able to guess what Ron was thinking about—he was one of those people that was fairly easy for her to read—but her mind was being occupied by other matters.

"Well, Harry of course," he replied. "I mean...I hate having to lie to him like this. And yes, it is lying if we knowingly refuse to tell him what's going on. He's my best mate and...I just don't feel right leaving him in the dark like this. Especially since what we're doing here kind of revolves around him."

Juliet gave Ron a sympathetic smile, placing a hand on his arm. She'd been caught off guard when they'd told her about Dumbledore's orders that she hadn't even stopped to think about how the whole ordeal was affecting Ron. He would obviously be the one to take it the hardest. Harry had been his best mate since their first year...

"I'm sorry, Ron. I know it must be difficult for you. Believe me, we all hate it, but I expect we won't have to keep it up for much longer. School starts in just a few weeks and Dumbledore's bound to change his mind before then."

Ron was silent for a long time, and Juliet began to fear that she'd said something to make him angry. After a moment though, he sighed and tried to give her a genuine smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes, but Juliet understood.

The two of them sat and talked for a while, trying to take their minds off of what was troubling them. Juliet downed three mugs of coffee, hoping the caffeine would help to keep her from thinking of her nightmare. She desperately wanted to talk to her father, but he had told her not to Floo home except in extreme emergencies. Severus didn't want her around if any escaped Death Eaters showed up, looking for a place to stay. She'd see him that evening when he arrived for Order meeting, anyway. She could talk to him then.

Around half past seven, people began to file into the dining room for breakfast (Mrs. Weasley had gotten up around half past six and began to prepare it. Juliet had tried to assist her several times, but Mrs. Weasley just smiled, told her she was sweet, and shooed her away).

Just as everyone was settling down and striking up conversations, Tonks entered the room, followed by someone Juliet had not seen since the previous year. Her eyes widened at the sight of him, and her roll fell out of her hand, bouncing back onto the plate.

She stared for a moment, awestruck, but reality slowly started to sink in. Tonks had brought Alastor Moody with her, but it was the real Moody this time, not the imposter who had forced her into her Unbreakable Vow. This man was no threat (not to her, anyway, as long as she didn't cross him), and he certainly wasn't a Death Eater in disguise. If he had been, he never would have gotten past the security enchantments the Order had placed upon the house.

"Alastor!" said Mr. Weasley. He looked as though he was astonished to see Moody, and Juliet could understand why. The man probably didn't get out much. "This is certainly a surprise. Is everything all right?"

Moody grunted and hobbled forward, his wooden leg clicking against the floor every time he took a step. His magical eye spun about, landing a few seconds longer on Juliet than any of the other students. Perhaps he recognized her from the night he had been rescued from Barty Crouch Jr. Or perhaps he knew who she was because of her father.

Sitting down heavily in one of the chairs, Moody trained both eyes on Mr. Weasley. Juliet breathed out a sigh of relief that she wasn't aware she'd been holding.

"There's a problem Arthur. With the Potter boy."

There was a problem with Harry? Juliet didn't particularly like the sound of that. Harry's "problems" usually ended up being able to be classified as catastrophes. Such was the nature of his life.

Black voiced Juliet's concerns. "A problem? What kind of problem?"

"He's been expelled for use of magic outside of school."

Ron's head snapped up. His eyes looked as though they were about to pop out of their sockets, and his mouth had fallen open in horror. "Ex-expelled?" he managed to stutter. "No! They can't expel him! They can't!"

"They can and they have," growled Moody, magical eye whizzing over to glare at Ron. "However, we have reason to believe that Potter only used magic to protect his own life—and the life of a cousin of his. Dumbledore's convinced the Wizengamot to table his expulsion until he attends a hearing. I've been ordered to gather a team to go and retrieve Potter so that we can bring him here and prepare him."

The notion that one hearing would determine whether Harry would be able to continue at Hogwarts made Juliet unspeakably nervous, and her feelings were echoed in the expressions of everyone at the table. Ginny looked especially anxious. Despite this, though, Juliet and Ron still shared a small, triumphant smile.

At least they wouldn't have to lie anymore.


	7. The Wrath of the Chosen One

**Sweet Juliet **

**Chapter 7: The Wrath of the Chosen One**

**(A/N: *Looks meekly at readers over the top of laptop* I'm back! Please don't kill me for being gone so long! I have some good news for you all—I'm officially on Thanksgiving break! I've just compiled a list of all my stories and I'll be working on them tonight. Thanks to all of you for sticking with me—I've had a rough couple of months. Now, without further ado, here's the next chapter of Sweet Juliet!)**

"Dad, you're being unreasonable!" Juliet fought not to shrink away from the glare Severus shot at her. She knew that she was playing with fire, arguing with him like this, but she was feeling quite adamant on this particular subject. Sure, her father was probably right, but that didn't mean she had to like it.

"Juliet, I said no, and that is _final_. What's gotten into you? You never argue with me like this."

"Nothing's gotten into me! Tonks said she doesn't see a problem with me going to get Harry! I'm handy with a broom and I'm one of Harry's best friends. I'll be the opposite of a hindrance!"

Severus sighed, running a hand down his face. "At no point did I suggest that you would be a hindrance to their mission, Juliet. Quite the alternate. However, given our current...situation, and as your father, I'm not comfortable with letting you leave headquarters until term begins!" By this point, Severus' voice had dropped to an angry hiss, and Juliet knew she was dangerously close to crossing a line. Heaving a deep sigh, she decided to concede...for the time being.

"Fine, I'll just wait around here for hours and worry about everyone."

She knew that Severus had picked up on the sarcasm, but he feigned obliviousness. "That's exactly what you'll do. Now, go on, you're already late for supper. I'll see you in two days."

_Ah, changing the subject. Well played, Dad. _"Won't you stay for supper? Just this once? I hardly get to see you, even when you're here for meetings, because I'm always stuck upstairs!"

"As you should be. Those meetings are no place for someone who's still in school. Much less my fifteen-year-old daughter."

"All right, all right. Will you stay or not?"

Severus granted Juliet one of his rare, sympathetic smiles. "I'm afraid I can't, Juliet. This is Black's house and I'm really not wanted here. We're lucky he allows me to attend the Order meetings." Juliet opened her mouth to protest, but Severus, no doubt knowing exactly what she was going to say, cut her off. "I _do _miss having supper with you, Juliet, but it'll only be this way for a few more weeks. When term starts, we'll see each other every day."

Juliet let a half-grin fall on her lips. Despite his vastly irritating over-protectiveness, she really did miss her Dad. She embraced him quickly, laying her head on his chest. "Oh, all right, then. I'll see you in a few days, Dad. Love you."

"I love you, too. Now go on, eat your supper. No doubt Molly's in a fit that you're late...again."

Her lips spread into a genuine grin this time, and Juliet turned away, waving to her father over her shoulder and running into the dining room.

…...

"They left nearly three hours ago!" Ron paced back and forth, wringing his hands together. Juliet sat between Ginny and Hermione on Ron's bed, watching him apprehensively. The poor boy sounded absolutely panicked. "Where could they be? What if something _happened _to them?"

"Ron, try to calm down," Hermione pleaded, her eyes following his anxious path around the room. "They'll be here soon." When he didn't answer, Hermione heaved a sigh and rose to her feet, going over to Ron and pushing him down into the seat she had just vacated. Ron grumbled a bit, but otherwise offered no protest.

A tense silence descended upon the group for a moment, none of them quite knowing what to say—or particularly wanting to speak. Juliet tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, thoughts of Draco beginning to drift into her mind. Thus far, she'd been able to avoid being alone with Hermione and being forced to talk about her holiday.

She just couldn't quite believe some of the things that Draco had said. For a few moments, she had seriously considered splitting up with him, but she knew she couldn't do that. He just wasn't thinking straight, that was all. When they had gone their separate ways after the holiday had ended, they were still dating, but Juliet knew things would be different when term began.

At the very least, they'd have a lot to talk about.

At that moment, Fred and George entered the room, pulling Juliet from her thoughts. The twins seemed to notice Ron's distress, because they immediately zoned in on him.

"Why the long face, Ronnie?" asked George, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Yeah, perk up, little bro," said Fred, taking a seat on Ginny's right. "You look like someone told you that you could never have pancakes for breakfast again." Ron shot a glare at his brothers, muttering what Juliet assumed were various expletives under his breath, but not forming any coherent words.

"Knock it off, you two," Ginny cut in. "You know he's upset because the rescue team hasn't returned with Harry yet."

"Rescue team?" The voice came from the hallway, outside of the door that the twins had left slightly ajar. Everyone in the room froze, watching anxiously as the door was pushed slowly open. The owner of the voice appeared, and he looked positively livid. "_Rescue team_?"

"Uh," George began, "hey, Har—"

One look from Harry, and George fell silent. He took a few steps forward, and Juliet swore if a pin were to drop, it would sound like thunder in her ears.

"What the hell do you mean _rescue_ team?" Harry bellowed. "What do I look like, a damsel in distress? I don't need to be _rescued_! What the hell is the matter with all of you?"

"Harry," Juliet began, standing up, "try to calm down—"

Harry cut her off viciously, the pure shock of it sending Juliet right back to her sitting position. "Oh, save it, Juliet!" Harry began pacing back and forth, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Everyone in the room was acquainted with Harry's temper issues, and it was keeping them relatively submissive.

"I don't believe this," Harry hissed. "I've gone the WHOLE SUMMER without a scrap of news, thinking that you'd all forgotten about me, and all the while you've been here, having a grand ol' time!" Hermione made to speak, but Harry didn't give her the chance. "This is absolute crap! What even _is _this place?"

For a moment, no one spoke, but then Hermione answered meekly. "This was Sirius' mother's house, and now we're using it as the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix." Hermione finished hurriedly before Harry could interrupt. His anger hadn't tapered off, not even a bit, and they all wanted to appease him as much as possible. "The Order of the Phoenix is a secret society, dedicated to taking down You-Know-Who."

After a few seconds of absolute silence, Juliet thought that maybe Harry was calming down a bit, and they'd be able to have a rational discussion with him.

Oh, how wrong she was.

He wasn't shouting anymore. No, his tone was lower, much more dangerous. Juliet had never seen him so furious. "You're trying to tell me that a society whose goal is to take down Voldemort—who _I'm_ supposed to eventually kill—has been kept a secret from me? And yet, Juliet is here, even though she was _spawned from Snape_!"

If any of them had thought the silence before was tense, it was nothing compared to what descended on them then. Juliet tried to fight it, but she could feel the tears stinging at the back of her eyes. Harry had stopped cold and was staring at Juliet, his mouth hanging open in horror. Her rational brain knew that he had only let his ire get the better of him, but she wasn't being rational at that moment.

She was hurting. Without a word, Juliet stood and ran from the room, trying to get out of sight before the tears started streaming down her face. She couldn't believe him. Harry had always been one of the people who she could count on, who would be there for her no matter what. She never imagined he'd say something like _that_ to her.

Perhaps her father had been right about him. All those times he'd warned her that the apple didn't fall far from the tree, she'd never listened. Looking back, she realized with sickening clarity that she should have. Her father had never steered her wrong, and this was no exception.

James Potter had tortured Severus for years, and stolen the girl he was in love with. It seemed that, despite what Juliet had wanted to believe, Harry Potter was no different.

It was just a shame it took her so long to see it.


	8. Friends in a Dark Place

**Sweet Juliet **

**Chapter 8: Friends in a Dark Place**

**(A/N: Ah, Harry was indeed a bad boy last chapter **** Will Juliet forgive him? Only time will tell. Enjoy and review! Also, thanks to 'twistedartist' for her review! You really got me in gear to finish this chapter, and to establish deadlines not only for this story, but all my others as well. Expect to see a lot more writing from me here on out :D Thanks girl!)**

Juliet wasn't sure where she was going. Damn huge house. She could run forever, and still there would be some new corridor she hadn't yet been down. So that's just what she set her mind to do. If she kept running and never stopped, she'd never have to face Harry—or worse yet, any of her friends that sought to comfort her.

Just as she was rounding a corner on what she was fairly certain was the third floor, Juliet ran directly into something—no, someone. She lost her footing, falling backwards and landing hard on the ground. For a moment, everything spun around her, and Juliet couldn't get her thoughts straight. When she recovered, however, and looked up, she found herself face-to-face with one of that last people she wanted to see at that moment.

Sirius Black offered his hand to her, looking a bit disoriented himself, and pulled Juliet to her feet. She tried to hide her face, but she knew it was futile; by his expression, he'd already caught sight of her tearstained cheeks. To make matters worse, she was still struggling to pull air into her neglected lungs, all of the breath taken out of her.

"Sorry," Juliet muttered, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "Excuse me." She tried to brush past the thin—and yet strangely intimidating—man, but Black grabbed her forearm, keeping her firmly in place.

"What's the matter? Why are you crying?" He was blunt, to be certain, but Black's tone held no trace of any meanness. Juliet wanted to snap at him to mind his own business, just as her father would, but she hesitated at the way he spoke to her. Sirius Black, of all people, sounded genuinely concerned.

"It's nothing," Juliet persisted. "If you'll excuse me—"

Again, as she tried to leave, Black pulled Juliet back by her arm. She was growing slightly annoyed with the fact that he was using physical means to keep in her place; perhaps, though, she was simply agitated because of the identity of the man before her. She'd heard more than a few stories about Black from her father's school days. He'd been James Potter's best mate, and that was not a good combination for young Severus. It was only natural that Juliet would hold some preemptive resentment for the man.

Lost in her thoughts, Juliet was startled to come back to reality and see Black staring at her with a mixture of lingering concern, paired with something akin to worrying for her mental health. When she remained silent for a moment, her black eyes wandering away from Black's equally dark ones, the man sighed with an air of someone who's come to the head of a conflict they'd hoped to avoid.

"Of course you don't want to talk to me. I understand."

Juliet looked back at Black sharply. He sounded almost…apologetic. It certainly wasn't something she expected from one of her father's former tormenters. It seemed to be a common theme with the people she came into contact with. The more time she spent around those her father all but despised, the more she realized that the perception he'd given her of them was a bit skewed.

Of course, he'd been right about Harry… Hadn't he?

"Forgive me, Mr. Black," Juliet said finally, keeping her gaze trained on the floor. She kept her speech rigid and formal, suppressing—with some difficulty—the conflicting emotions currently warring inside of her. "I know I'm a guest in your house, and I don't mean to be rude."

"I'm curious about something," Black replied, seemingly choosing to avoid responding directly to Juliet's statement. "What exactly has your father told you about me? I'm sure he's spoke nothing but the truth, but I'd like to know regardless." Juliet strained to detect a hint of sarcasm in his voice, but found none.

"I—" She hesitated, looking nervously into Black's eyes.

He laughed, a good-natured sort of laugh that reminded her of the Heratys. She didn't want to hear that sort of friendly chuckle from a man who'd made a sport of causing her father's adolescence to be a living hell.

"No need to censor yourself, child. I've been to Azkaban and back. I believe I can handle a little harsh language." Juliet stared at him for a moment, cocking her head to the side curiously. He seemed sincere, but she was hesitant to accept his demeanor at face value. Finally, however, she conceded with a sigh. If he wanted to know the extent of her father's horror stories, she had no reason to withhold them.

She told him everything that she could ever remember her father telling her. Black listened intently, and she watched the changes of his facial expressions as she transitioned from story to story. The only thing she intentionally omitted was James Potter's infringement on her father's feelings for Lily Evans; Black didn't need to know about that. Everything else, though, was open game.

As Juliet spoke of a time that was particularly dark for the teenaged Severus, a time when he'd actually considered a permanent alternative, Black's face contorted into something that Juliet had trouble recognizing. There was anguish, certainly, sorrow, perhaps a bit of pity, but hidden at the very bottom of the cocktail of emotions was something she thought she'd never (but was pleasantly surprised to) see—guilt. Black felt genuinely, truly sorry for all he had done. Perhaps, all along, he just needed to hear things from another point of view.

At least _someone_ her father had forewarned her against had been able to change for the better.

"You really feel guilty, don't you?" Juliet asked after a moment of undisturbed stillness. She took Black's lack of response for the confirmation she knew it was. He felt sorry, to be sure, but he was still too prideful to voice it out loud. The look in his eyes, however, gave her all the validation she needed.

When Black finally spoke again, his words were mumbled and nearly incoherent, as though he was speaking more to himself than Juliet, despite the fact that he addressed her directly. "You must think I'm a horrible, wretched man."

"Mr. Black, I—"

"No, no. No need to deny it. If I were in your place, or your father's place for that matter, I would find it incredibly difficult to feel anything but hate towards me as well." He paused for a moment to offer her a ghost of a smile, the corners of his lips just barely turning up. "It's all right, of course. I know that, after all I've done, I certainly deserve it."

Juliet had to suppress her own grin as she tucked another flyaway strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Mr. Black, if you'll allow me to finish a sentence, I was going to say that, though I can't speak for my father, my own opinion of you is improving rather rapidly." Before Black could interrupt her yet again, Juliet finished her thought. "Also, I know that everyone in this house has divided feelings about my father. I'd like to personally assure you, though, that he is a great man, and he is my hero. He's never been anything less than amazing in my life."

By then, Black's smile had bloomed into a full-fledged one, and he placed a genial hand on Juliet's shoulder. "He didn't do a half bad job of raising his daughter either. It's nice to see a girl who will stand up for her family." Juliet smiled sheepishly and looked away. She knew she had a tendency to become rather impassioned when her father's honour was in question, and had to remind herself that even she had doubted him the previous year. She couldn't help but jump to his defense, though. For a very long time, he'd been all she had.

Before Black or Juliet could say anything else, the sound of footsteps on the stairs behind them, stopped all thoughts in Juliet's mind dead in their tracks. The blood in her veins seemed to turn to ice, and just like that, the cheerful mood that had been creeping up on her was gone, as though it had been struck with a Vanishing Spell.

Juliet hoped and prayed with all her might that it wasn't Harry approaching them, but knowing her luck, it would be. Her limbs didn't seem to want to cooperate and allow her to move, so it took a tremendous amount of effort to turn around and make eye contact with the newcomer.

The sight of red hair was so welcome, it was almost absurd. Juliet breathed a sigh of relief, choosing for the moment to ignore the ridiculousness of her response. Ron, out of breath from running, bent over with his hands on his knees once he came onto the landing. He looked slightly perplexed to see Juliet and Black standing together, talking, and seemingly in jovial humors.

"I'll let you two talk, then," said Black, sliding past Juliet and making his way towards the stairs. Just as he was about to vanish from sight, the man turned back to Juliet, a small smirk gracing his lips. "Oh, and Juliet? You don't need to call me 'Mr. Black.' Sirius is fine." It was a seemingly commonplace statement, but it put the grin right back onto Juliet's face. Sirius Black, supposed mass murderer and Hogwarts bully, really wasn't so bad at all.

At long last, when Juliet turned back to Ron's questioning gaze, she had to bite back a groan. At that moment, the last thing she wanted to do was discuss her problem with Harry. Ron seemed to realize this, because he threw and arm lightly around her shoulders and heaved a great sigh. Juliet had to smirk at his dramatics. Ron had a lot of faults, but he certainly knew how to cheer up his friends. He'd always been there for her, and she appreciated it more than he could possibly realize.

As her redheaded friend led her into one of the empty bedroom off of the corridor they were standing in, Juliet tried to figure out what she was going to say about the situation that . As more time passed, she realized more and more that Harry had just let his temper get the better of him, but she was still angry. Harry had known that others' views of her father—and, by association, herself—was a sensitive subject for Juliet. In his rage, he had intentionally hit upon a sore wound, and twisted the knife for good measure.

Juliet and Ron sat next to each other on the old, dusty bed for a moment in complete silence. She was grateful that he wasn't drilling her with questions right away. Another thing Ron was good for. Finally, after the quiet had seemed to drag on a bit too long, Ron let all his breath out in a sigh.

"He's sorry, you know."

"Yeah, I know," she deadpanned.

"And he didn't mean it. He was just being a git, that's all."

"I know that too."

"Then why—"

"Because Ron, because I'm tired of everyone thinking that my father is the devil incarnate, and using it against me whenever the opportunity presents itself. He's _not _a bad person. I've been over it a thousand times, and no one seems to understand. They just won't see reason at all." Juliet had expected herself to become enraged, to fly into a frenzy, but she just sounded tired. That's exactly how she felt, too. She was desperately, hopelessly exhausted from the seemingly never-ending battle that went along with the last name 'Snape.'

Ron didn't speak for a moment, keeping his eyes trained on the wall across from them. His left leg bounced up and down nervously, seemingly without his knowledge. As the seconds ticked by, and the redhead beside her remained silent, Juliet thought that she might have left him at a loss for words.

A moment later, though, he did speak.

"I'm sorry, Juls." Just three words, that's all they were, but they had an effect on Juliet that hit her with the force of a Stupefy. All at once, as though her bones had broken and disintegrated, she just crumpled in on herself, burying her face in her hands and doubling over as a sob wracked its way through her body.

Vaguely, she felt Ron put an arm around her shoulders once more, pulling her towards him in an attempt to comfort her. Without a thought about it, she turned and pushed her face into his shoulder, feeling a twinge of guilt for the tears that were staining his shirt. Ron said nothing about the offending droplets of water, though. He simply sat there, arm wrapped tightly around her shoulders, letting her cry until she could do so no more.

After a while, Juliet's sobs began to subside, and soon she was just hiccupping as she sat there, leaning against her redheaded friend for support. It was a long time before either of them spoke again, but finally Juliet decided to break the peaceful quiet that had settled over them.

"You must think I'm just some weepy little girl now, crying over nothing." Her words were meant as a joke, but the cracks in her voice spoke volumes to the contrary.

"It's not nothing, Juliet," Ron replied seriously, more so than she'd ever heard him speak. "You have every right to be angry. With all of us."

Juliet laughed, the noise coming out more like a whimper than anything. "Well, Luna's never done anything to piss me off, but the rest of you…" Ron let out a breath of a chuckle. It was so quiet that Juliet wouldn't have even noticed it if the action hadn't shifted his body next to hers.

"Hey, Ron?" Juliet asked, turning to look up at him. She knew her eyes were rimmed with red and she must look horrendous, but at that moment, she didn't particularly care.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks…you know, for listening."

This time, when Ron laughed, it was perceptible, and audible to boot. "Any time, Juliet. I'm not as big of a buffoon as I look."

"I don't think you're a buffoon, Ron."

"Well," he responded, completely shifting back to his joking self, "you're one of the few. The twins would certainly disagree with you." Then, all of a sudden, Ron sobered once more, the grin falling rapidly from his lips.

"What is it?"

"You know you're going to have to talk to Harry, right?"

Juliet sighed, leaning her head on her friend's shoulder once more. She knew that he spoke only the truth, but she didn't want to face it at that particular moment. She was feeling a bit better, but the wound was still fresh. She wasn't sure if she was _quite _ready to forgive Harry."

"I know," she responded after a minute, "but…not right now. Can we just stay here for a while?"

Ron smiled, and Juliet's heart swelled with gratitude. She'd never given it much thought before, but she and the rest of their friends were so, so lucky to have someone like him in their lives.

"We can stay as long as you want, Juls."

"Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

On an impulse, Juliet turned and threw her arms around him, hugging the redhead tightly around the middle. He let out a grunt of surprise, but eventually wrapped his arms around Juliet's back and returned her embrace.

"You're a good friend, Ron."

"I try."

**(A/N: Phew! That took a while, especially since I was dyeing my hair in between typing pages of this. Well, twistedartist, I got to almost 2,700 words! Not quite what you asked, but longer than a great many of my chapters. I'll work up to the 4,000 word goal. For now, though, I'm actually quite pleased with this chapter. To all the reviewers, if you're getting any hints of a Ron/Juliet romance, that's not quite what I was going for. I just wanted to explore their friendship. Firstly, because I love Ron as a character and I think he has a lot of potential. Secondly, I've always wanted a "guy best friend" so I thought it'd be cool to write that sort of relationship (don't get me wrong though, I love my bestie Chloe). Anyway, shoot me a review and look for chapter nine tomorrow. Lots of love!)**

**ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi) **


	9. They Know

**Sweet Juliet **

**Chapter 9: They Know**

**(A/N: I'm really trying here guys :D I hardly ever have the motivation to do daily updates, so I'm really proud of myself, even if it's only day two. Haha, outside of that crazy rant, I'm gonna start including the songs I listen to while writing these chapters. Consider it a writer's soundtrack of sorts. For this one the list is as follows: **

** 1. I Won't by Colbie Caillat  
2. Probably Wouldn't Be This Way by Leann Rimes  
3. I'll Think of a Reason Later by Leann Rimes  
4. Various songs from the Pocahontas and Lion King 2 soundtracks…**

**I'm such a weird girl… Anyway, enjoy and REVIEW! Oh! And be sure to read the author's note at the end!)**

Suddenly, the size of Twelve Grimmauld Place didn't seem so offensive anymore. If anything, Juliet was grateful for it, and the way that its ancient, twisting enormity allowed her to avoid Harry for the rest of the evening. She skipped supper; it's not as though she felt much like eating anyway. Ron had offered to stay with her, perhaps play a game of wizards' chess to pass the time until Hermione and Ginny would return from their meal, but she'd sent him away with a chuckle the second she'd heard his bottomless stomach grumble.

It seemed that supper lasted for hours and hours—though, of course, with twenty-something Order members, this was to be expected. Juliet passed the time by alternatively staring at the ceiling, facing an imaginary opponent in chess, and trying to figure out just what she was going to say to the wild-haired, bespectacled boy when she finally had to face him.

By the time that Hermione and Ginny slipped into the room, both of them looking more than a little apprehensive, Juliet was bored out of her mind. She was almost ridiculously glad for the company, despite the fact that they were bound to bombard her with various queries and transmitted words of remorse from Harry. Juliet took a deep breath, preparing herself for the worst, but trying to send the message with her eyes and body language that she did _not_ want to talk about the events that had transpired a few hours previously.

Apparently, though, unlike Ron, Hermione and Ginny couldn't take a hint.

"Juliet, please listen. You _know_ how Harry's temper is. He'd never want to say or do anything to hurt you when he's in his right mind." Of course, Hermione was the first one to dive into the dreadful conversation. Ginny stood off to the side, arms crossed over her chest, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. Juliet sighed, refusing to make eye contact with her still-ranting friend.

"And regardless, we all know boys say stupid things when they're angry. They just can't be trusted to hand their emotions as well as girls," Hermione droned on. "I know you're upset, and of course you have every right to be, but you have to realize…"

Hermione's seemingly incessant stream of words continued to spill forth from her lips, and neither Juliet nor Ginny could hope to get a word in edgewise.

"That's not the point, Hermione," Juliet mumbled halfheartedly, leaning back in the armchair she had been sitting in and crossing her arms over her chest moodily. Hermione continued to ramble, the sentences becoming increasingly more unintelligible to Juliet, who was quickly losing her patience. She had a temper of her own, and it was dangerously close to boiling point.

At last, after a consecutive five minutes of Hermione talking, Juliet could take no more. She slammed her palms down on the armrests of the chair, punctuating her movement with a bellow of her friend's name.

"HERMIONE! You know I love you dearly, but would you _please _shut up for a minute? You're going to make my head explode!" Hermione's speech cut off instantaneously, and she actually took a step backwards, as though Juliet had physically pushed her. The latter had to resist the urge to roll her eyes at her know-it-all friend's inability to be interrupted while she was on a tirade.

Juliet vaguely registered the sound of Ginny's muffled giggles behind her, and she had to suppress a laugh of her own. Hermione looked so mortified that it was almost comical.

"Hermione," Juliet spoke up finally when Ginny's chuckles had died away, "I already know everything you're telling me. I know Harry has a temper, I've been friends with him long enough to see that, and that's not what I'm angry about. Everybody lets their emotions get the better of them sometimes."

"So…" Hermione replied, her eyebrows coming together as her forehead wrinkled in confusion, "what _are _you angry about, then?" She paused suddenly, as though realizing something, and then a look akin to annoyance crossed her features. "Oh goodness, Ron didn't say something idiotic, did he?"

Juliet's lips turned down in a slight frown; she was a bit put off by the fact that Hermione jumped to the conclusion that if Ron had come to talk to her, there must have been some measure of idiocy involved. Sometimes she thought she was one of the only ones who appreciated what a good friend Ron was. The rest of them just treated him like a bumbling moron.

"No, Hermione, Ron didn't do anything. He was actually more helpful than _anyone _in this situation."

"I'm confused too," Ginny chimed in, speaking for the first time since she had entered the room. "If it's not something Ron did, and it's not the fact that Harry lost his wits, then what is it?"

Juliet closed her eyes disparagingly, running a hand down her face. She was suddenly very tired, and none of her friends were going to be able to grasp the concept of just _what_ she was angry about. It was a conversation better left for another day.

"Look, I don't really want to get into this right now. Can we just get some sleep and leave this conversation to rest until the morning?" Hermione and Ginny, after a long moment, nodded their assent, albeit reluctantly. The air in the room wasn't quite tense as they donned their sleeping clothes and climbed into bed, but it was laden with something thick that Juliet didn't have a name for.

She knew that sleep would not come easily, but she resolved to shut her eyes and try.

….

The hours seemed to pass like days, and still Juliet could not find any solace in sleep. She turned over and over in her bed, never quite finding a comfortable position, and never really able to keep her eyes closed for more than a minute or so. As it tends to do when one tries to fall asleep when they're not sleep, Juliet's nose and ears got to itching, and wouldn't let up no matter how hard she tried to ignore them.

Eventually she grew frustrated, and as quietly as possible, slipped from her bed and out the door. She hadn't bothered to don her slippers, and the old wooden floor was chilly on her bare feet. Juliet crept silently to the staircase, using years of experience sneaking around at Spinner's End to make certain that the floorboards didn't creak as she stepped on them.

The kitchen was empty when Juliet entered it, but she noticed a little covered plate sitting on the edge of the dining table. Upon closer inspection, she found a note attached to it, bearing her name in smooth, pretty handwriting.

_Juliet,_

_ In case you get hungry tonight and come down for a bite to eat, I left something for you. There's some tea left over in the cupboard._

_ Love,  
Molly_

Juliet couldn't help but smile at Mrs. Weasley's note. She supposed that the others had told the adults that she wasn't feeling well, or something of the like, because no one had ever come upstairs to question her absence from supper. Mrs. Weasley was such a kind woman; it was no wonder that Ron had turned out to be such a wonderful friend. All of the Weasley children—with the exception of Percy, who they made a rule not to speak of—were exceptionally good-natured and cheerful people. The whole family was a gift.

Juliet made her tea quickly, not wanting the squealing of the tea kettle to wake anybody in the house. It was nearly three in the morning, and she hadn't realized how hungry she was. Thank Merlin for Mrs. Weasley's kind gesture.

The minutes passed slowly as Juliet nibbled on a bit of bread and cheese, sipping her tea here and there and enjoying the few stolen moments of peace and solitude. She though back to the last time she had been sitting there in the middle of the night. It was hard to believe that it was a mere day ago that she sat across from Ron, both of them fretting about having to lie to Harry. She had been one of the few who wanted to reveal the truth to him, and it was almost comical how enormously that had backfired on her. Still, no one but Ron understood the true reason for her ire.

"Oh, Harry," she whispered, wondering vaguely why she was voicing her thoughts out loud when there was no one around to hear them, "why don't you understand? No one understands why I'm angry."

"Maybe it would help if you told me." The voice came from behind her, sending Juliet rocketing out of her seat and scrambling to remain upright as she tripped on her own feet and stumbled. She whirled around, coming face to face with her new company, eyes widened in panic and breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

Harry took a step back, seemingly startled by her violent reaction to his presence. He stayed a few feet away from her, rooted to his spot, looking worried that if he came any closer she'd jump through the roof.

"Harry!" Juliet rasped, her hand clawing at her heart as though to make sure that it wouldn't beat right out of her chest. "Why in Merlin's name would you sneak up on me like that? Are you trying to give me a heart attack?" Harry simply stood for a moment, not responding to her inquiry, but instead staring at Juliet with an oddly familiar expression. It took her a moment to place where she'd seen it, but suddenly it hit her.

It was the same look that Sirius Black had possessed earlier that evening, while she spoke of her father to him.

Yes, it was clear now that she looked closer at it. Everything was there—the anguish, the pity (this particular aspect irked her a bit), the sorrow…and the guilt. It was clearly written in every line on Harry's face, and shining brightly in his green eyes. The power of his remorse struck Juliet forcefully, and all of a sudden she wanted to forgive him immediately. She wanted to draw her friend into a hug and tell him she wasn't angry anymore.

But that wasn't true, and she had to hold out. Harry had to learn a lesson, and through him, the others had to learn it as well.

"I'm sorry I scared you," Harry said finally, his tone low and speaking volumes for the turmoil currently swirling around inside of him. "Look…Juliet…I think I know why you're angry."

It was Juliet's turn to be taken aback. She had thought she'd have to spoon feed the answer to him. It still remained to be seen whether his hypothesis was accurate, but she was surprised that he was even making a guess. "You do?"

Harry nodded. "I think so. Can we sit?" They did so, facing each other. Juliet folded her hands nervously in her lap, but otherwise showed no sign of apprehension. She stared Harry directly in the eye, trying to warn him to back down immediately if he was planning on saying something ludicrous. Harry seemed much more anxious, his right leg bouncing up and down and a muscle in his jaw working furiously. Even his hair seemed more on edge, sticking in an even wilder fashion than normal.

"All right, we're sitting. What is it?"

"I think you're tired of your father…even the stigma of your last name…being used as some sort of "free card" whenever someone's angry with you. I know what I said was stupid, and I was being the biggest git in the world, and I'm so, so sorry. I promise, from this point forward, that if you and I have a problem, it will be a problem between _you _and _I_. Let's let Severus Snape and James Potter's problems stay in the past where they belong."

Juliet didn't know what to say as she tore her eyes away from Harry's training them instead on the fireplace that sat on the far wall. He'd really, for lack of a better phrase, hit the nail on the head. She was impressed.

It was slow, but a smile gradually worked its way onto Juliet's face. "Did Ron clue you into that little secret?"

Harry laughed, though it didn't entirely reach his eyes. "No, I came up with that all by myself. Ron won't even look at me right now, let alone talk to me."

Juliet's eyes softened considerably, and she reached over and took Harry's hand in her own. "I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't mean to come between you and your best friend."

"I deserved it," Harry said, squeezing her hand quickly and returning her grin. "I really am sorry, Juls. I just don't know what comes over me sometimes."

"Oh, we all know you're a loose cannon, Potter," Juliet teased, pulling her hand from his and poking him in the chest. "That's no secret. Besides, we wouldn't keep you around if you weren't prone to flying off the handle every once in a while. For the most part it's entertaining, and it's about all you're good for." Harry rolled his eyes, still smiling, and Juliet felt her heart swell with relief. It felt good to be back to their usual joking selves. She hated fighting with Harry, and she really believed him when he said he wouldn't be bringing their fathers into any more rows.

"Hey, Juls?" Harry asked after a moment of comfortable silence.

"Hm?"

"Uh…you remember the end of last year. When I, um…said something to you about…um…"

Juliet bit her lip anxiously. Of course, she knew exactly what he was talking about. After they'd returned from the graveyard together, a delusional Harry, overcome with gratitude for her attempts to save his life, had professed feelings for her. Juliet hadn't thought much of them. Seeing that they had come on so quickly, she assumed they would die away with equal hastiness. She hadn't the slightest clue why he would be bringing them up again.

"Yeah, I remember. What about it."

"I just wanted to tell you, and please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm sorry I ever said any of that. You were right, I was just not thinking clearly because of what happened in the graveyard, and I didn't mean it. You're with Malfoy, and I'm glad you two are so happy together."

Juliet's breath caught at the mention of Draco. Harry had no clue that they were far from "so happy" at the moment, and she had no intentions of cluing him in. She forced a smile onto her face and breathed a dramatic sigh of relief. "Well, thank Merlin for that. You're gross, Potter."

Harry chuckled right along with her, his green eyes sparkling brightly. "Oh, shut it."

….

They returned to bed around four in the morning, and Juliet was immensely relieved that she managed to creep back into her room and crawl under the covers without waking Hermione or Ginny. She couldn't help but smile widely to herself as she drifted off to unconsciousness. Finally, things were starting to take a turn for the better…

….

Morning came far too soon for Juliet's liking. It took quite a bit longer for her to dress than normal, and her feet dragged as she made her way downstairs to the dining room. By the time she had woken up, Hermione and Ginny were already out of bed and down to breakfast.

When she reached the bustle of the kitchen, Juliet noticed that Harry didn't look much better off than she did. He was clearly exhausted, if the dark circles under his eyes were anything to go by. He seemed to be in a relatively cheerful humor though, and Ron was joking and making conversation with him. Juliet smiled, glad that the two best mates had made up.

The day passed like any other at Grimmauld Place—breakfast, various cleaning projects assigned by Mrs. Weasley, lunch, more cleaning, and then they were free to do as they pleased until dinner. As evening pressed on and the Order members arrived one by one for the night's meeting, the children sat upstairs in the room shared by Ron and Harry, making quiet conversation and joking along with one another. Juliet felt a contentedness that she had been lacking for quite some time. It was nice to sit with her friend, uninhibited by drama of any sort.

Suddenly, the twins burst into the room, startling everyone. It only took one look at them to know that something was gravely wrong. Their usual jovial smirks were absent, replaced by worried eyes trained directly on Juliet.

"What is it?" Ginny asked, the first one to speak. "What's wrong?"

"Juliet, you better come here."

Confused, but growing more apprehensive by the second, Juliet followed the twins out onto the second floor landing. With an unwavering serious expression, Fred handed Juliet a long piece of flesh-coloured string—one of the twins' Extendable Ears. Juliet shot him a confused look, but Fred simply shook his head slowly, gesturing towards the door to the dining room on the floor below them. Nervously, Juliet inserted one end of the string into her ear, lowering the other until it was only a few inches from the threshold of the dining room.

She only caught a few stolen sentences, but they were enough.

First came Mrs. Weasley's voice: "…do we know for sure that something's happened to him?"

Then her husband: "Severus told us right from the beginning that he'd never miss a meeting unless he was forcefully kept away, or in grave danger."

At that point Juliet almost dropped the Extendable Ear in shock, so she only caught the last few words of Sirius' response to Arthur.

"…nothing we can do?"

Wordlessly, Juliet handed the string back to Fred. Everyone had joined them on the landing, but Juliet didn't so much as notice their presence. She felt numb, as though all of the blood in her veins had suddenly stopped flowing and decided to prohibit all movement, all speech, and all thoughts except for one:

_They know_.

**(A/N: Hey! Wow, another long chapter! I made it over 3,000 words this time! Sorry for the cliffhanger, but I felt like we hadn't seen a whole lot of Severus action in the past few chapters. Okay, since I asked all you lovely readers in my opening author's note to read this one, here's what I wanted to tell you: I'm sure you're all aware of FanFiction's sister site, FictionPress. What you may not know is that I also have an account on that site. It's also under the name ChasedByTheShadows, and I have the first eighteen chapters of my book, Burning Embers, posted there. I don't have a single review, and I'd like to get some feedback. So please, if it's not too much trouble. Give the first couple chapters a read (and, of course, more if you like it :D) and let me know what you think in a review! I love my Sweet Juliet readers, and I'd like to know what y'all think of my other writing. Thanks so much, lovelies! Don't forget to review this latest installment of Sweet Juliet!)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi)**


	10. No One in the World

**Sweet Juliet**

**Chapter 10: No One in the World**

**(A/N: Happy New Year! Yay! :D Haha sadly, though, this means that I have to go back to school tomorrow. Ah, well. At least I'm graduating this year! Anyway, here's the next chapter, enjoy and review!)**

Juliet knew that they were all staring at her, but she couldn't return any of their gazes. The less they knew about why her father might be detained, the better. She had to get away, before they came to their senses and started asking complicated questions that she couldn't answer.

Harry looked as though he was going to be the first to dive headlong into the conversation, but Hermione—bless her—cut him off and managed to get Ron to lead him quickly away. Ginny followed suit with the twins, and before long, Hermione and Juliet were the only two left standing in the hallway.

"Thank you so much," Juliet whispered, her eyes still darting anxiously from place to place as though looking for any lingering eavesdroppers.

"No problem," Hermione replied, grabbing Juliet's wrist and leading her towards a door at the end of the hall that stood slightly ajar. The bushy-haired girl looked as though she was on some sort of mission, and under different circumstances, Juliet would have been highly amused by the utterly determined look that had taken over her features. As it was, however, her thoughts could only rest in one place—her father.

"Where are we going, Hermione?"

"Some place where we won't be overheard. Come on, hurry up."

In a flash of brown hair, they were in the room at the end of the hall, and Hermione slammed and locked the door behind them. Juliet vaguely took in their surroundings as she waited for her friend to speak. They were in some sort of bedroom, and the place looked like it hadn't seen a good dusting in about a century or so. There wasn't much furniture—a king-sized bed, an old-fashioned wardrobe, a night table, and a rocking chair in the corner, adorned with a cushion that must have once been magnificently embroidered.

"All right, Juls, talk to me," Hermione demanded suddenly, catching Juliet off guard and pulling her out of her anxious reverie. "What do you think is going on with your father? You looked scared out of your wits out on the landing, so I know he's not just late."

Juliet took a deep, shaking breath, going over to the bed and clutching one of the bedposts for support. Hermione's concerned eyes followed her, but Juliet was in a different place. Images of the graveyard, of her father, and of Goyle's unannounced visit flashing before her eyes. Her gaze became unfocused, her black eyes glossed over, and a thick silence descended upon the two girls for a few moments.

Suddenly, though, Juliet's head snapped back up, startling Hermione a bit.

"I think there are Death Eaters at my house."

Hermione didn't look shocked, as any of the others would have, but simply nodded her head, a grave expression settling on her features. "Because of what Mr. Goyle said when he visited you. The reason your father let you go on holiday with Malfoy." It wasn't a question, but Juliet nodded anyway.

"Yes."

"Are you worried that your father is in danger?"

Juliet laughed shortly, a sound entirely devoid of mirth. "He's always in danger, but…I suppose, logically speaking, he shouldn't be at any more risk than normal." Hermione slowly meandered her way past Juliet, the wheels in her head clearly whirring about. Juliet thought with a suppressed smirk that she could almost hear them.

Hermione sat down on the bed, sending a cloud of dust swirling up and around her. For a moment, she was almost entirely obscured, but Juliet heard her mumbled words anyway.

"Do you think…that maybe, because of your situation, you panicked out on the landing and assumed the worst right away?"

Juliet smiled sheepishly, embarrassed for her momentary lapse of control. This time, when she laughed, it was out of sincere amusement.

"Yes, I suppose that's what could have happened."

Hermione grinned as well, the cloud of dust around her finally settling. "Hey Juls, I've been meaning to ask you—and yes, I know you've been purposefully avoiding the subject—what _happened _on your holiday with Malfoy that was so bad? Did you two have a row or something?"

Juliet's transitory sense of relief melted away, and a feeling of dread washed over her to replace it. _That _was the last thing she wanted to talk about.

Before she had the chance to think of a proper response, though, there was a knock on the door. Seconds later, Ron poked his head through the opening and looked warily at the girls. Juliet broke into a wide smile at the sight of him. Never had she been so grateful for her redheaded friend. Behind her, Hermione sighed audibly behind her, knowing that Juliet was once again getting away with dodging the subject of Draco.

"Hey Juls," Ron asked, "are you okay?"

Juliet beamed up at her tall friend, letting go of the bedpost and approaching him. "Yeah, I'm all right. Just a little mental breakdown, that's all."

Ron smiled, pushing her shoulder playfully. "You've got to get a grip, Juls. You're really going mental. Anyway, your dad just got here."

Juliet's smile widened. "He did? Oh, thank Merlin."

"Yeah," Ron replied. "You want to know the weirdest part? Sirius _asked _him to stay for dinner even though he missed the meeting, and your dad agreed."

Juliet's eyebrows shot up. "That certainly is strange." Had Black apologized to Severus, or had her extremely perceptive father just noticed something different in Sirius' demeanor when he had extended the dinner invitation. She supposed she could ask him later.

"Well, let's go downstairs then," Hermione said with an air of a child who had been denied a particularly delectable cookie. She stalked past Ron and Juliet, garnering a bewildered gaze from the former. Juliet just shook her head, smirking, and followed her friends out of the room.

….

Juliet was seated beside her father at dinner, still feeling immensely relieved that he was safe. She knew that he could take care of himself and that, in all probability, she needn't have worried in the first place, but part of her had needed to see him with her own eyes to truly believe it. She couldn't quite help it—for a great many years, he had been all she had, and their situation had made her paranoid.

The meal was slightly tenser than normal, due to Severus' presence, but still ten times louder than any that Severus and Juliet had shared at Spinner's End. Juliet liked both. Quiet dinners with her father were lovely, but there was something so fun about the organized chaos that came along with the Weasley family.

"So Severus," Mrs. Weasley spoke up, attempting to make conversation, "are you all prepared for the new term at school?"

Severus was silent for a moment, gazing unwaveringly at the woman across from him. His striking black eyes were seemingly unblinking, and Mrs. Weasley shifted nervously about in her seat.

"Yes," he answered after a moment. "Yes, just about. My new curriculum for the year is nearly finished." Mrs. Weasley smiled, though she still looked measurably uncomfortable.

Mr. Weasley tried his luck next. "Do your NEWT-level students look promising this year?"

"Overall yes," Severus replied. "Of course there are a few exceptions, but only the ones who can handle the course make it past the first week of classes. I make sure of that."

"Juliet, dear, do you plan on pursuing high-level Potions classes?" Mrs. Weasley asked, her smile turning genuinely warm when she looked over at the young girl seated next to Severus.

"Oh, yes. I love Potions," Juliet responded, smiling up at her father. She didn't expect him to return the gesture, but was pleasantly surprised when one corner of his lips was tugged slightly upwards. "Runs in the family, I suppose."

As dinner progressed, the tension in the room seemed to ease bit by bit. It never quite disappeared altogether, but by the end of the meal, no one was continuing to look at Juliet's father as though he had the Plague. After an hour, Severus got up to make his leave, refusing Mrs. Weasley's insistence that he stay for dessert.

"I'll walk you to the door," Juliet said, rising from her seat as well. Once father and daughter were out in the entryway, Juliet let the smile drop from her face.

"When I overheard them saying that you hadn't showed up for the meeting, I was scared out of my mind," she whispered. "I thought we were found out. I thought something had _happened_ to you!"

"I'm sorry I frightened you Juliet," Severus responded in a tone so low that even Fred and George's Extendable Ears had no chance of picking it up. "I assure you that I'm perfectly fine. I must say, though, that you did an admirable job of not acting suspiciously when you came to dinner."

Juliet grinned. "Well, Hermione calmed me down."

"Yes," Severus said stiffly, "the Granger girl certainly cares about you."

"They _all _care about me, Dad," Juliet replied, bestowing a hug upon him.

"While that may be," Severus responded, "it needs to be noted that there is no one in this world that cares about you more than I do. Do you know that?" The words were mumbled, and when he embraced her, it was clumsy, and would have seemed completely out of character to anyone that didn't know him as well as Juliet, but it made her smile anyway.

"Yeah, I know. I love you, Dad."

"I love you, too." Severus released her, stepping away and once again becoming the entirely composed man that he was to the rest of the world. "Now, as you know, we won't see each other again until the new term starts. I'll go out and get all of your new books and supplies and have them sent along to you before then."

"Okay."

"Very good. I'll see you in a week, Juliet."

"Bye, Dad." She watched him go as he shut the door behind him and walked away, listening for the faint _pop_ in the distance as he Disapparated. "…be safe."

Juliet turned from the door and began to climb the stairs to Harry and Ron's bedroom. She hadn't felt so content in a long while, and though she knew it would most likely be short-lived, she was going to enjoy it for as long as she could.

**(A/N: Just some sweet father-daughter stuff for those of you that have been asking. Next chapter we're back at Hogwarts. Let me tell you, it's going to be an exciting year! You'll FINALLY get to know what happened at the end of Juliet and Draco's holiday, Juliet is going to find something that's pretty shocking, You-Know-Who will come back into the picture, two of my favorite characters (Neville and Luna) will be back, and on top of all that, the gang has to worry about OWL exams! I would NOT want to be them :D Okay, that's a lie. Of course I would. All right, one more thing and I'll quit my rambling. Today is the last day to vote for who you think Juliet should end up with at the end of Sweet Juliet: Part 4. I'll be posting the results tomorrow with chapter 11. Once again the choices are:**

**1. Harry**

**2. Draco**

**3. Ron**

**4. Fred**

**5. Other (give name and reason)**

**Well, that's all, folks! Drop me a review and make my day! In the words of the great Philip DeFranco, love yo faces! See you tomorrow!)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi)**


	11. Facing Draco

**Sweet Juliet**

**Chapter 11: Facing Draco**

**(Here it is, chapter eleven, as promised! Results of the poll are at the bottom of the chapter. Enjoy and review!)**

Thank Merlin for magical enlargement spells.

That was all Juliet could think of when they all began to crowd into the Weasley's car. It was beyond her powers of imagination to fathom how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred, George, Ginny, and herself, along with all of their luggage would be able to to fit into the tiny, seemingly five-seater car, but by some miracle (or, rather, just common household magic), they managed it.

The morning had been hectic, to say the least. Hermione was frantic, plagued with paranoia that she was going to forget something detrimental to her very existence, and Ginny—who had been intelligent enough to pack all but her daily essentials a week earlier—had spent most of her time since their early breakfast trying to calm her down.

Fred and George had procrastinated entirely on packing their trunks, and when Juliet walked past their room to get to the one she shared with Hermione and Ginny, she caught sight of them running about throwing various object (some of them rather suspicious) haphazardly into their suitcases.

Harry and Ron were completely packed, but they were being of no help to anyone else. They sat in the girls' room, next to each other on Juliet's bed, amused smiles gracing both of their faces as they watched a psychotic Hermione scurry about the room, and a quickly-becoming-impatient Ginny chasing after her.

Finally, though, they had all piled into the car, and were on their way to King's Cross Station. It was a bit of a drive, so they'd had to leave quite early. As it was, they'd be arriving at the train station at around ten o'clock—and with as many people as they had, an hour was scarcely enough time. Juliet had heard the horror story from Ron and Harry's second year, regarding a Ford Anglia that the Weasley family used to own. Certainly, no one wanted a repeat of that.

At long last, they arrived at the station, and—when they had found a relatively remote parking space—everyone piled out of the car and began unloading their things. It was quite a scramble as they made their way toward the platform, but somehow—Merlin knows how they managed it—the large group reached the entrance to Platform 9 ¾, all together, and in one piece.

There weren't too many people on the train at that point, and Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Juliet found a compartment to put their things in. Ginny went to find a compartment with some friends, and the twins had wandered off to who-knows-where. Having stored all of their trunks, the children went back out onto the platform to bid Mr. and Mrs. Weasley goodbye.

When it was Juliet's turn to say goodbye, she received a hug from both of the Weasley parents. Mrs. Weasley held on for a little while, her hand on the back of Juliet's head.

"Now, you be good this year, Juliet. I know you will. You're a good girl." Juliet stepped back and smiled at the redheaded woman. Her eyes looked so much like Ron's.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley. For taking care of me."

Mrs. Weasley gazed at Juliet, still grinning in a motherly sort of way, seeming to appraise her for a moment. "You have your father's eyes, dear." Juliet looked away then, breaking eye contact with the woman in front of her. There had been no contempt in Mrs. Weasley's tone, but Juliet was well-accustomed to what people meant when they made that particular comment.

Mrs. Weasley leaned closer to Juliet, and her next words were whispered. "Now, I know you musn't have heard this much before, and I'm sorry about that, but I think it's a good thing, you having such a close resemblance to your father."

Juliet furrowed her brow, thoroughly surprised. "You do?"

Mrs. Weasley touched Juliet's cheek affectionately, the maternal smile still gracing her features. "I'm so fond of all of Ronnie's friends. You, Hermione, Harry... I passed judgment on you too early, dear, and I'm not proud of it. You turned out to be so wonderful."

Juliet couldn't suppress her own smile as she closed the distance between them once more, bestowing another tight hug on the woman in front of her. "It's okay, Mrs. Weasley, I understand."

The redheaded woman smiled, quickly wiping a solitary tear from her rosy cheek. "Go on now, Juliet. Harry and Hermione have already boarded, and Ron's waiting for you by the door." With one last wave to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Juliet jogged over to Ron and linked her arm with his as she allowed him to lead her onto the train.

As they pulled away, they stayed at the window and waved to Ron's parents until they were entirely out of sight.

Sighing, Juliet turned around, and she and Ron began to make their way—arms still linked—to the compartment where Harry and Hermione were waiting for them. As they proceeded down the aisle, a door a bit ahead of them, to their right, suddenly opened, and a tall boy walked out.

Draco.

She hadn't seen or spoken to him since the end of their holiday, and he looked better than ever. Juliet wanted to kick herself. She should have been expecting to run into him on the train, but she'd all but forgotten about it in her excitement.

Ron cleared his throat uncomfortably, and it was only then that Juliet noticed where Draco's stare was pointed—directly at their linked arms.

A blush spread across Juliet's face—she mentally berated herself for this—and she quickly removed her arm from Ron's. Draco looked slightly relieved, but his entire body was still tensed with anticipation and something Juliet couldn't quite identify.

Ron cleared his throat again, speaking gruffly. "I'll, uh...I'll just leave you two alone."

"Yeah, you do that, Weasley," Draco shot back coldly as Ron walked away. The latter gave no retort, but Juliet saw him shake his head slightly after he had passed Draco. Juliet crossed her arms, narrowing her eyes at her boyfriend. She looked the perfect picture of an irritated girlfriend.

"Don't talk to him like that Draco," Juliet snapped, equally as coldly. Draco sighed tiredly, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I just want to talk, Juliet."

"Then talk."

"You haven't been answering any of my letters."

Juliet scoffed derisively. "What did you expect?"

Draco ran a hand down his face, keeping his eyes shut for a moment. "Can we do this somewhere else, please, and not in the middle of this aisle?"

"I don't see a problem with staying right here."

"Well I do!" It was the first time he had lost his cool in the conversation, and Juliet had to suppress a smile. She was still angry, and she had wanted to get a rise out of him. Draco took a deep, steadying breath before reopening his eyes and looking at Juliet in exasperation. "Please, Juliet. Just come into my compartment. None of my friends are there."

Juliet considered him for a moment, eyes still narrowed, but finally let her hands fall to her sides and nodded her consent. She followed Draco into the vacant compartment, taking the seat across from him and looking at him expectantly.

"Juliet, I said some stupid things last time we were together—"

"I'm aware of that."

"Please," he said, not forcefully, but rather weakly, "just let me talk."

"...Okay. Talk."

Draco stood up suddenly, crossing the small compartment in two steps and taking the seat next to her. He tried to reach for her hand, but Juliet pulled it away, keeping her gaze trained on her lap. She didn't want to look up and see the inevitable hurt in his eyes.

"I was just being crazy, Juliet, and I'm sorry. I was feeling so much after we..." Juliet wanted to smile at _that_ particular memory, but she suppressed it. It wouldn't do to start grinning like an idiot during this of all conversations.

"Yeah, well, you scared the hell out of me, Draco."

"I'm sorry," he replied, giving a short, humorless laugh. "What else did you expect from a fifteen-year-old boy?"

Juliet was horrified to feel the corners of her lips tugging upwards, but she did nothing to stop them.

"Draco," she said, turning to him and accepting his outstretched hand, "you asked me to _marry _you. I mean, come on! That would terrify any fifteen-year-old girl. And trust me, _no one_ expects that from a boy your age. Teenage boys are supposedly only thinking about one thing, and it's certainly not _marriage_."

Draco laughed, and the sound carried more mirth this time. "Well, I suppose I'm abnormal then."

"Oh, I already knew that," said Juliet, giggling. "You're slightly touched in the head, Malfoy."

Draco smiled warmly, leaning his forehead against hers. "Hey, what I did was completely idiotic, but at least it tells you how much I love you, right?" Without missing a beat, Juliet leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. He tasted the same as always—sweet, and warm, and all hers.

"I love you too, idiot."

They leaned back into the cushioned seat, Draco drawing Juliet into his arms. "I'm so glad we got past this. I missed you, Juls."

She smiled radiantly, gazing up at him with glistening black eyes. "That's exactly what I needed to hear."

**(A/N: HA! Now you know what went down between Draco and Juliet! And, for those of you who were wondering, NO, she's NOT pregnant. Severus placed a contraceptive charm on her before she left (even though Juliet didn't know about it—imagine THAT awkward conversation, if you remember chapter 2 of Juliet: Part 1. WEIRD). Now, the results of the poll:**

**First Place—Harry (8 votes)**

**Second Place—Draco (7 votes)**

**Third Place—Fred (2 votes)**

**Fourth Place—Ron (no votes)**

**Wow, REALLY close between Harry and Draco! I've had a plan for this story all along, and I know where I'm going with it. You'll just have to wait and see ^^ Anyway, thanks to those of you who voted! Everyone—please shoot me a review and I'll love you forever! REVIEW! Thanks, lovelies!)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi)**


	12. The Key

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 12: The Key**

**(A/N: Sorry I've been gone for so long, loves. I hope you enjoy this chapter and the others I'll be uploading tonight. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought :D) **

Quicker than Juliet would have liked, night had begun to fall, and she had to bid Draco goodbye so that she could return to her own compartment and don her school robes. Giving him a quick kiss on the lips, she slipped out into the main aisle and made her way back towards where Harry (and hopefully Ron and Hermione, whom she assumed would have finished their Prefect duties) was waiting for her.

Upon her return to the compartment, Juliet was pleasantly surprised to see Neville and Luna there as well, and she greeted them with a hug. The six of them dressed in their robes and prepared their things to exit the train.

Juliet was unfamiliar with the carriages that would take them to the castle, as she had Floo'd in with her father the previous year, and the…things pulling them were very surprising to her.

"Are those horses always there?" she inquired of Hermione in reference to the skeletal, admittedly terrifying beasts.

Hermione's brow furrowed. "There are no horses, Juliet. The carriages pull themselves."

"No, I see them too." It was Harry's voice, and Juliet turned to him, relieved. He looked quite befuddled himself, though, and it served to send a wave of apprehension fluttering in Juliet's chest. Harry had taken the carriages to the school for years, and it was obvious that this was the first time he'd set eyes on the gruesome, emaciated horse-like figures.

"Stop joking around, you two," Ron chimed in, cracking a smile. "If this is your way of getting back at us for being gone on Prefect duties, it's not bloody funny."

"Actually, they're telling the truth." The high, dreamy voice had come from behind them, and Juliet turned sharply to face Luna. She had all but forgotten about the younger girl's presence.

"Luna..." Hermione began, but then trailed off. She was eying the blonde apprehensively and chewing on her bottom lip, looking the picture of nervousness.

"They're called Thestrals," said Luna, all but ignoring Hermione's feeble protest. "They're rather special magical creatures, actually. Frightening, to the untrained eye, but quite gentle." The other students, Harry and Juliet included, gazed upon Luna with trepidation. If any of them were skeptical of her explanation, they did well to hide it.

"So why can't Hermione, Neville, or I see them," Ron inquired.

"Because," Luna replied, her tone quite matter-of-fact, "you can only see the Thestrals if you've seen someone die."

After that, it was silent as the six students climbed into the carriage. No one knew quite what to make of Luna's words, and in fact, perhaps it was better to let them die, and forget about them as quickly as possible. Something in the seemingly innocent sentence had awoken a feeling of uneasiness in Juliet that she couldn't quite shake. Sighing resignedly, she turned her eyes to the castle and tried to focus on what lay ahead of them.

Though she had certainly been angry at the time, Juliet was actually quite appreciative that her father had chosen to keep her from Hogwarts for the first three years of her schooling. At the very least, it had saved her the abject humiliation of the public Sorting that the first years were forced to endure. She couldn't imagine her eleven-year-old self, strong-willed and stubborn as she had been, being able to handle walking up to that rickety stool in front of the entire population of Hogwarts and allowing the old Sorting Hat to place her in her house. The very thought was mortifying.

Something is different about the Sorting Hat this year, though. Even Juliet, by any definition a rookie of Hogwarts in comparison to her friends, could tell that something was amiss. Instead of the catchy tune that the old Hat had sung the previous year, in which it had described all of the defining attributes of the four houses, a new song drifted from its ragged mouth. The Hat's warning was clear, and it left Juliet feeling even more apprehensive: be wary of divisions withing. Stand together.

Following the Sorting, Dumbledore stood to welcome the new staff members. Juliet had wondered who the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor would be. She had heard from her friends and around the corridors that the position was thought to be cursed. No teacher since Quirrel, who had been at the post in Harry, Ron, and Hermione's first year, had been able to keep the job more than a year.

"I would like to welcome," said Dumbledore, his voice magically magnified so as to demand the attention of even the sleepiest seventh-years in the farthest corners of the Great Hall, "the newest addition to our teaching staff here at Hogwarts. Please give a warm round of applause to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Miss Dolores Umbridge."

The woman stood, and the sight of her immediately left a bad taste in Juliet's mouth. She was short and stout, dressed from head to toe in all shades of pink. Her smile was sickly sweet, and it gave Juliet the sense that she was going to have a toothache in the morning. Her voice was no better, and though Juliet tried to tune out the woman's speech as much as possible, it grated on her ears enough to sink in.

"The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. Although each Headmaster has brought something new to this historic school, progress for the sake of progress must be discouraged. Let us preserve what must be preserved, perfect what can be perfected, and prune practices that out to be prohibited."

The words, vague as they were, stirred something in Juliet. She looked around at her friends, trying to gauge their reactions to the strange, irritating woman that had suddenly appeared at their school. Harry and Ron looked simply perplexed, as though they were still trying to make sense of Umbridge's words. Hermione's expression was vastly more apprehensive, and it did nothing to put Juliet's nerves at ease.

With her teeth worrying her bottom lip, Juliet turned her gaze to the staff table at the head of the Great Hall. Her father sat there, at his place off to the left, and he caught her eye. Even from afar, Juliet could tell something was amiss, and that something was bothering him. She swallowed heavily as she turned back to her plate. The feeling of nervousness from earlier was spreading through her more intensely, and she didn't even know how to begin to quell it.

The welcoming feast passed quickly, and the older students were quieter than they usually would have been. It was as though a veil of apprehension had settled over them, and only the naïve first years were free from it.

As Juliet trailed behind Harry, Ron, and Hermione, preparing to make the long walk to Gryffindor Tower, she felt a sudden tug on the sleeve of her robes. She stopped, turning to see who needed her attention. She expected Luna or Neville or Draco, or even her father, but the person whose gaze she met was far more surprising.

It was Dolores Umbridge, and the same sickly sweet smile from the Great Hall was plastered once more on her face. Harry, Ron, and Hermione, sensing that Juliet was no longer behind them, turned around and came to stand a few feet from Juliet and Umbridge. The former briefly caught Hermione's eye, and she didn't like what she saw there.

"How can I help you, Professor Umbridge?" asked Juliet, finally turned back to the woman clad in pink. She tried to hide the trepidation in her voice as she spoke, and only just barely succeeded.

"Forgive me, dear," Umbridge replied, absentmindedly patting down her hair and her ghastly pink cardigan. "I saw you in the crowd at the feast and couldn't help but recognize you. Do you happen to be Mr. Snape's daughter?"

_Ah, so that's it_. Juliet supposed that she should have expected something like this to happen. Her father was both well-known and little-liked at the Ministry of Magic. Juliet had overheard Harry tell Hermione that Umbridge was an employee of Cornelius Fudge, so it stood to reason that she would be well-accustomed to the name 'Snape.' It did nothing to improve Juliet's opinion of the woman, to say the least.

It took a moment for Juliet to find an acceptable answer (one that didn't include an array of curse words). "Yes, ma'am, _Professor_ Snape is my father."

Umbridge smiled, but Juliet could sense something in her eyes, beneath the glare of pearly whites. Something was very wrong about this woman.

"Yes, well," she said, each word dripping slow and sugary from her lips like molasses, "I hope the two of us will become very close this year, Miss Snape."

When Umbridge finally scurried away from Juliet, in her prancing way, Harry, Ron, and Hermione, who had been watching nervously from a few feet away, rushed to their friend's side. Juliet could tell that none of them were happy with the situation that had just transpired.

"Juliet..." Hermione began, only to be cut off by Ron.

"I ought to go after our new _Professor_ and teach her a thing or two about respect," he growled, turning his glare to Umbridge's retreating form.

"Drop it, guys," Juliet responded, forcing a smile of her own. "It's no big, deal."

"Not a big deal!" Hermione seemed personally affronted at the very thought. "Juliet, of course it's a big deal! It would take an idiot not to see that Umbridge immediately passed judgment on you, just because of your father. It's not right. If it were me, I'd—"

"Well, it's not you, Hermione, it's me." Juliet sighed, running a hand through her brown hair. "Besides, need I remind you that the three of you did the same thing when _you_ met me last year?"

Hermione looked away, obviously ashamed of the actions of her former self, and Juliet felt a small twinge of guilt.

"Look, Hermione," she amended in a last-ditch effort not to sound too horrible, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm not going to let Umbridge get to me. I've got thicker skin than that. Can we please just drop it and go up to bed?"

Reluctantly, Hermione agreed. As they resumed their trek to Gryffindor Tower, though, Juliet caught her muttering about the new professor under breath.

"I don't like that woman...not one bit."

…

When morning came, Juliet decided to go and visit her father in his quarters. She figured if anyone could get her mind off Umbridge, it would be him.

The walk from her dormitory to the dungeons was a long one, bit it gave her time to think. She thought mostly about the upcoming term—which classes she was most excited for, and which she was dreading (History of Magic was one of the latter). She'd be having a great many of the same professors as the previous year, and a few new ones as well. All in all, save perhaps for Defense Against the Dark Arts, it looked as though a promising first term lay ahead.

At last, Juliet arrived at the door to Severus' office. It was propped slightly open, and she hurried in, expecting her father to be waiting there behind his desk, perhaps preparing lesson plans or organizing potions ingredients.

He wasn't there, though. In fact, the whole office was vacated, with not a soul in sight. Furrowing her brow, Juliet crossed the small, dimly lit room to her father's desk. On the dark wooden surface was a small scrap of parchment, adorned with Severus' hurried, scrawling handwriting.

'Juliet—' it read, 'There was a problem with my rosters, and I've gone to see Professor McGonogall to get it fixed. We can have breakfast tomorrow, if you'd like. Love, Dad.'

Juliet shook her head, smiling. Her father had long ago made a habit of leaving notes for her every time he had to leave the house for something. She always left a reply, too. A little pot of ink sat on the desk next to the parchment, but there was not a quill to be found. Frowning, Juliet began to open drawers at random. One near the bottom hung slightly open, as though it had been hastily shut.

Curiously, Juliet pulled the drawer open. It was empty except for a few pieces of paper, some broken quills, and an old, tarnished sliver key. Juliet picked it up, turning the cold metal over in her fingers. It was small, made for a box or safe of some sort, not a door. There was a note, attached to the top by a thin piece of string, and it had a date written on it in Severus' handwriting.

'9/10/1980.'

Juliet felt something stir, somewhere in the far reaches of her mind, though she couldn't quite place the memory that was struggling to come back to her. She looked once more at the date, trying to think of what it could mean. It was a couple of months after her birth.

Perhaps it was something to do with her mother.

Suddenly, the sounds of students making their way down to the dungeons for early morning classes reached Juliet's ears. Not wanting to be caught snooping around when Severus returned to teach, she slipped the key into her pocket and ran from the office, not stopping until she was safely away from the dungeons.

She had to figure out what the key went to.

…

On the first Saturday of the year, Juliet and Draco were out by the lake, enjoying the fleeting warm weather and the company of one another. Juliet had been so distracted by the start of term that she hadn't had time to think about the key—or the date on it—in quite a few days.

Finally, whilst enjoying her quiet date with Draco, she allowed the though to drift back into her mind. She repeated the date over and over in her head, hoping that something would come to her, but still—nothing. She couldn't remember _why_ it was so important, just that it was.

"What's bothering you?" asked Draco suddenly, shifting so that Juliet was no longer leaning against his chest.

"Hm? Oh, it's nothing..." Realizing the horrible vagueness of her answer, Juliet quickly amended, "I suppose I'm just worrying about the O.W.L's. This is going to be a stressful year, I'm sure."

Draco rolled his eyes, throwing an arm lazily around Juliet's shoulders. "Merlin, Jules, you're starting to sound like the Granger girl."

Juliet huffed in annoyance, scooting away from her boyfriend. Draco's arm fell unceremoniously to the ground, and he looked at Juliet in confusion.

"Juliet? What's wro—"

"Will you ever learn to like my friends," asked Juliet suddenly. "Or at least _tolerate _them?"

"I _do _tolerate them," Draco spat back, glaring right at her. "I'm downright tame around them now. If it weren't for you, I'd be much worse to them."

Juliet groaned, turning to face the lake. Somewhere out in the middle, something began to bubble. After a few moments it stopped, whatever creature that had been near the surface sinking once more into the depths of the black water.

"I just don't know if that's good enough, Draco..." said Juliet finally, her voice substantially quieter. "How can our relationship continue and develop if you can't stand some of the most important people in my life?"

"It is just one thing after another with you anymore, Juliet." Draco was angry now, and Juliet flinched at his biting tone. "Besides, you aren't particularly fond of _my _friends either."

Juliet's head snapped up, and in a second she was on her feet, her voice once more rising to a yell. "Oh, really, Draco? Don't make me laugh. Your 'friends' are nothing more than your lackeys! I don't have any obligation to tolerate them!"Draco rose up to meet her, his steely gray eyes, currently burning with rage, staring directly into her black ones.

"There's a lot you don't know, Juliet!" he challenged, leaning toward her. "I offered to be Potter's friend before Weaselbee, and Saint Potter denied me!"

"Maybe that's because you're such an insufferable git!" shouted Juliet before turning on her heel and storming back towards the castle. A shocked, seething Draco stood in her wake, watching the retreating form of a girl he thought he knew.

**(A/N: The weirdest thing happened to me while writing this. I kept wanting to write in present tense, and it was really hard to make sure everything that was supposed to be was in past tense. Maybe it's because my outline for this story is in present tense. On that note, I have a surprise for you. I have two more chapters almost completed, and they'll be going up sometime tonight. Also, I have the rest of the story outlined, so all of the other chapters should be posted relatively quickly. Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you thought!) **


	13. An Ineffective Defense

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 13: An Ineffective Defense**

**(A/N: Told you I'd be posting another chapter tonight :) Never doubt me. Bwahahaha. Enjoy and review! Also, if you're a Pretty Little Liars fan—and a fan of Spoby—go check out my story 'The Devil Inside of Me.' It's a collection of oneshots that I wrote before the season 3 finale, but I'm quite proud of them. Here we go!)**

When she finally climbed through the portrait hole, Juliet was seething.

The common room was deserted, save for Fred, George, and Ron. They were sitting in a few of the plush armchairs near the fire, the latter two engrossed in a game of wizard's chess while Fred looked on with mild interest.

Ron was the first to notice her presence. "Oh, hey Juliet. Erm...what's the matter?"

"I don't really see how that's any of your business," replied Juliet snappishly, folding her arms over her chest as though preparing to defend herself. Ron raised his eyebrows, blue eyes boring suspiciously into to Juliet's, and the twins shared confused glances. After a moment of tense silence, Juliet sighed, running a hand down her face.

"Sorry, it's just...well, it's a long story."

Trying not to crack a smile, Ron gets up and comes to stand next to Juliet. "Yeah, yeah. You want to come to the Owlery with me? I've got to send a letter to my brother, Bill."

"Sure."

"I suppose this means you forfeit then," Fred and George spoke up together, wearing matching grins.

"Oh, shut up," Ron snapped good-naturedly. "Come on, Juliet."

Ron waited until they had descended a few of the many flights of stairs before he began to interrogate her, something Juliet was incredibly grateful for. That was one of the many great things about Ron. He may have come of as sort of a buffoon when it came to girls, but he knew when a friend wanted to talk and when they didn't.

"Do you want to talk about what happened to make you so upset?"

Juliet considered saying that no, she certainly did not, but then changed her mind. If there was anyone she could tell, it would be Ron.

"I got in another fight with Draco. It seems like that's all we do anymore. Fight, break up, get back together. Rinse and repeat."

"And?"

"What do you mean?"

"You and I both know there's more to it than that."

Juliet let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding, and their pace slowed as she thought about what was really and truly bothering her.

"It's just...I'm not so sure that my relationship with Draco is practical. I mean, no one has ever heard of a Gryffindor and a Slytherin dating. With the animosity that exists between our two houses, not to mention our groups of friends, maybe there's a reason for that. Maybe I was stupid to think this could work."

Ron didn't miss a beat before he replied. "First off, Juliet, you are in no way stupid. Second, being practical doesn't matter as long as you're happy."

They'd reached the front steps of the school, and Juliet looked across the expanse of grass and stone, her eyes drifting over to the tree by the lake where she and Draco had been sitting just an hour before. Everything looked somehow different to her, though she didn't quite know how. Sighing, she turned back to Ron.

"...Maybe I'm not happy anymore."

…

Monday came, and trouble with it. Umbridge had been preaching her "The Ministry and Fudge are your God and Potter and Dumbledore are liars" garbage once more, and Harry had been unable to control his temper once more.

"He was there," Harry had said, when Umbridge once more asserted that the Dark Lord was permanently dead and gone. "I saw him. I'm not lying. I _fought_ him."

"Detention, Mister Potter!" Umbridge's shrill voice had rung through the classroom, inciting the snickers of all of the Slytherins in the room. Juliet tried to ignore the fact that Draco was most likely one of the ones who had laughed.

When Umbridge assigned Harry the detention, it was as though someone lit a fire in Juliet's veins. She was getting quite sick and tired of all of the bullshit that the woman spewed in her sugary voice. It was enough to enrage anyone, especially someone with a short fuse like Juliet.

When they finally left the classroom, Juliet having just managed to contain herself, Draco and his lackeys are waiting, clustered in a tight group, barely able to contain their smirks.

"Well, well, Potter," said Blaise Zabini, a handsome, dark-skinned boy whose interest in Draco's group could be summed up in the word _Pansy_, "how the tables have turned. I guess the world is finally seeing you for what you are."

"Oh, back off," spat Juliet, taking a threatening step towards Zabini. She was several inches shorter than him, and many pounds lighter—even though he was rather thin—but she hoped that he would be intimidated enough by her tone to just go away. It was a hope that was, in hindsight, rather a far stretch of the imagination.

Zabini only laughed in Juliet's face. "Well, Draco, I guess even you can't control this one."

"What did you just say to me?" Juliet did not take kindly to being spoken about like property. A feral, animal-like growl ripped from her throat as she lunged at Zabini. She was going for his pretty-boy face, but something hit her first. It was Goyle, and he pushed her hard enough with his burly gorilla hands that she slammed into the nearest stone wall.

Regaining her senses quickly, Juliet turned to see Harry and Ron heading towards the boys in Draco's group, murder in their eyes, with Hermione behind them, desperately trying to hold them back.

"Stop it, you two!" Hermione shouted, finally stepping in front of Harry and Ron and putting a hand on each of their chests. She was much smaller than them, and would not have physically been able to hold them in place, but the sight of her asserting herself in such a way was enough to give them pause.

"Malfoy and his _buffoons_ aren't worth our time. We need to leave. _Now_."

Harry and Ron finally conceded after a moment of thick, heated silence. They backed away from Draco's group, not turning their intense glares from Goyle. Hermione followed them, ushering the two down the corridor as quickly as she could. Juliet, clutching her scraped shoulder, took a step to follow her friends. She stopped, looking back and meeting Draco's eye.

The glare he gave her was indifferent, cold even, but she could see it there, hidden in the depths of his stormy gray eyes: he was hurt. Blinking a few times, Juliet turned and followed Harry, Ron, and Hermione down the corridor.

**(A/N: So this chapter was a bit shorter, but that's just how it worked out in my outline. The next one is longer. Much love, dearies! Leave a review, pretty please! See you later for chapter 14!) **


	14. A Meeting at the Hog's Head

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 14: A Meeting at the Hog's Head**

**(A/N: Enjoy chapter 14! I'll try to get a few more out tomorrow. Drop a review down at the bottom of the page if you can :D)**

When the next day came, Juliet found it immensely difficult to maintain concentration on her lessons. She tried exceptionally hard, especially in her father's class, but all her ability to remain focused seemed determined to elude her. Part of her wished she would have turned around and tried to reason with Draco, but she knew her pride wouldn't have allowed him. Besides, the hurt look in his eyes didn't change the fact that he was a difficult, bigoted git who didn't like her friends.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't entirely to blame.

Finally, when the bell rang, dismissing the exhausted Slytherins and Gryffindors from their final class of the day, Juliet gathered her things and made to trudge out of the Potions classroom after Harry, Ron, and Hermione, but the quiet noise of Severus clearing his throat gave her pause. She turned, brow furrowed in confusion, and gave him a questioning look.

"Juliet," he asked, his tone soft enough that none of the remaining students would hear his use of her first name, "would you mind staying behind a moment? I need to speak with you about something."

"Of course," she responded immediately. Turning to her friends, she assured them that she'd meet them at dinner as soon as she was done. Reluctantly, they left the classroom, Severus and Juliet were silent until the sounds of the students climbing the stone steps had entirely dissipated.

"What did you need to talk to me about?" Juliet asked curiously, feeling herself relax slightly with the knowledge that only she and Severus remained in the room. He eyed her for a moment, his expression becoming that of a stern father rather than a professor, and she returned his gaze suspiciously. Something was clearly bothering him, and he was deciding whether or not he wanted to tell her. Juliet didn't like when he kept secrets from her—it made her feel like she was still a child.

Severus broke the silence after another moment of mutual observation. "Have you been in my office at all, Juliet?" His question was blunt, so different from the way he usually approached an inquiry, and Juliet had to fight to keep her expression neutral. She allowed a bit of confusion to drift across her features, praying that she wasn't overdoing it.

"Of course not, Dad." Then, silently, and suppressing a wry smile: _And if I had been, I certainly wouldn't have taken a key, or anything like that_.

Severus continued to look down at his daughter for a moment, his dark eyes clouded with suspicion. Juliet swallowed, trying to ignore the way her palms were beginning to sweat. She attemped to surreptitiously wipe them on her robes, and it seemed to escape Severus' notice (though she couldn't be sure).

"Very well," he said at last, abruptly changing the subject. "Now, before you leave, I'd like to discuss your Defense Against the Dark professor." There was a thinly veiled disgust in Severus' tone as he spoke of his most recently appointed colleague, and Juliet did not fail to pick up on it.

"Dad," she said cautiously, "Harry says that woman works for the Ministry. You don't want to make her angry."

"That is precisely my point, Juliet," Severus said, a bit more harshly than he had meant. "Dolores Umbridge is the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, and she is not someone we want as an enemy. For perhaps the first time, I am inclined to agree with Mr. Potter. Umbridge's presence here at Hogwarts has made our situation all the more dangerous."

"So what are you saying?" asked Juliet, not bothering to mask her trepidation. Her father would have seen right through it anyway.

"I'm saying that it's not good to have a Ministry official right under our noses. We'll need to be very careful around her. I need you to promise that you won't do anything to upset her or give her reason to suspect that you are anything other than a student with a father who works at your school. Do you understand, Juliet?"

Juliet didn't respond immediately. Instead, her mind drifted to her outright hatred for the woman, and all that she stood for. Pretending to suck up to her sounded about as appealing as replacing her morning pumpkin juice with Polyjuice Potion. Juliet sighed, knowing the answer her father expected from her.

"I promise, Dad."

"I am only trying to keep you safe, Juliet."

"I know. May I go to dinner now?"

Severus continued to stare at his daughter for a moment, his eyes narrowed. "Of course. Go enjoy your meal."

Juliet looked down at her shoes guiltily. She realized that she must have sounded impatient and ungrateful, despite her father's efforts to protect her.

"Aren't you coming?" she asked, trying to portray her desire to make amends through her tone. "We could walk down to the Great Hall together. I haven't gotten to spend much time with you this term." The corners of Severus' lips twitched, a sure sign that he was suppressing a grin. It served to comfort Juliet, but only slightly.

"I'm afraid I'm going to be taking dinner in my office tonight," he said, his tone neutral as always. "Thanks to my N.E.W.T students, I already have an obscene amount of papers to correct." Juliet relaxed slightly, recognizing one of her father's dry, flat attempts at humor.

"All right, then," she conceded, retrieving her bag and books. "Have it your way, Dad. I'll try to stop by before curfew tonight and make sure you haven't starved yourself."

Once she was safely out in the corridor, slowly climbing the steps that would lead her out of the dungeons, Juliet allowed a frown to drift across her lips. She'd been foolish to take the key and think her father would not notice. It had been just sitting there, in one of the drawers of his desk, and if she had been thinking clearly she would have recognized that it meant that he had been looking at it shortly beforehand.

He knew the key was missing, that much was for certain, but he wasn't sure whether Juliet or someone else had taken it. Juliet shuddered to think what would happen if he found out the truth.

When she arrived in the Great Hall, she scanned the crowd, quickly spotting Ron's shock of orange hair and Harry's tangled black mop. Walking briskly over to them, Juliet sat down in the empty space between the two boys, forehead wrinkling when she realized who was missing.

"Where's Hermione?"

"In the library," Harry said, and added, "Where else?"

"She said something about finishing a History of Magic essay," Ron added, his tone making it clear that he hadn't even begun the aforementioned assignment.

"Damn," said Juliet, realization hitting her. "I have to finish that, too. I only have the conclusion left, and I've been meaning to ask Hermione for help with it...I suppose I should go and meet her." Sighing, she rose from her chair, glancing longingly at the food that was piled high on silver platters in front of her. She considered sneaking some to the library, but the hawk-eyed Madame Pince would surely murder her if she were to be found out.

Bidding Harry and Ron goodbye, Juliet heaved her heavy bag back over her shoulder and slumped out of the Great Hall. She would have loved nothing better than to eat a nice meal and go up to her dormitory, where she could promptly collapse on her bed, but she'd been procrastinating on the end of her essay for days. If she didn't work up the motivation to do it then, it would never get done.

At long last, Juliet reached the library, her feet immediately carrying her to a table in the far corner, where Hermione always sought refuge when she wanted a quiet place to study.

"Juliet!" Hermione whispered in surprise when the other girl sank into the seat across from her. "Why aren't you at dinner?"

"Ron and Harry told me you were in here finishing the History of Magic essay, and I came to ask if you'd help me with the conclusion on mine. It's all I have left of it."

Hermione sighed in seeming exasperation, but she smiled nonetheless. "Oh, I suppose it wouldn't be too much trouble. At any rate, at least when you ask me for help, it's _just _help, not asking me to do the whole assignment like Harry and Ron." Juliet laughed, but quieted herself quickly in case Madame Pince was lurking around a corner, waiting to kick any disruptive students from her precious library.

The girls worked in hushed tones, Juliet telling Hermione what she was thinking of writing, while the latter gave advice on things she thought were missing, or things she suggested could be revised. Before very long, Juliet was rolling up her parchment, thanking her friend profusely for the help. Hermione waved a hand dismissively, insisting it was no trouble.

They talked for a while longer, mostly discussing Hermione's disdain for Harry and Ron's study habits—or rather, lack thereof. Juliet laughed right along with her friend, the seemingly perpetual nervousness she'd felt since the welcoming feast retreating for a few glorious moment. It felt like the first time she had been truly happy all term.

"So," Hermione said, her voice taking on a nervous edge, "I need to ask you something." Juliet eyed the other girl suspiciously, having some idea what her friend was wondering about.

"All right, then," she responded slowly, each syllable carefully drawn out in a warning of sorts. "Go ahead."

"Well, I wanted to ask about your fight with Malfoy. You seem to be taking it better than you usually do."

Juliet wanted to snap back at Hermione, but she took a moment to remind herself that her friend was only trying to help, and bit back her annoyance at the comment. The fact that she had a "usual" reaction to fighting with Draco was more than irksome, but Juliet tried her best to shrug it off. She was probably reading too much into Hermione's words.

"I don't want to talk about this, Hermione," she said finally, struggling to keep calm and not let any emotion into her tone.

"Juliet, you'll have to at some point—"

"Not necessarily," interrupted Juliet. "If everyone stops asking me about it, I _won't_ ever have to talk about it." Hermione looked slightly taken aback, and more than a little stung, but Juliet didn't allow herself to be broken by the small stab of guilt.

"Thanks for the help, Hermione," she said, standing and retrieving her bag. "I've got to get back to the common room. I'll see you later."

Without another word, Juliet turned on her heel and walked briskly from the library, leaving a stunned Hermione behind her. She tried to ignore the regret gnawing at her and, pushing down the urge to apologize, she pressed onward, not slowing until she had reached the entrance to Gryffindor Tower.

It was late, just a bit before curfew, and most of the students had drifted off to bed. Harry was alone in a corner of the common room, as far from the other students as he could be. He appeared, strangely, to be staring down at his hand. Juliet went over and made to sink down next to him, trying to forget about her conversation with Hermione. It would do her no good to dwell on such things.

Before she could take a seat, though, she noticed something odd on the back of the hand Harry had been staring at. When he had seen her approaching, he had tried to jerk the appendage out of sight, but it was too late. Juliet's mouth fell open in horror.

"Harry, what the bloody hell _happened_." Frantically, he shushed her, looking wildly about to see if any of the other students, scattered sparsely through the common room, had overheard her. He pulled Juliet down next to him none-too-gently. She paid his roughness no mind, grabbing his hand and holding it a few inches away from her face.

_I will not tell lies_.

She stared up at him incredulously, trying to suppress her horror at the guilty look in his green eyes. He looked somewhat like a child that had been caught writing on the walls.

"Harry, what _is_ this? Did you do this to _yourself_?"

Harry's eyes widened in disgust, and he was quick to retort, "No, of course not!" He hesitated for a moment, tearing his gaze from Juliet's. "Well, I suppose technically, but it certainly wasn't of my own volition."

"Then what's it from?" asked Juliet, trying and feeling to put the pieces together in her mind. Harry had never seemed like the kind of person who would resort to self-mutilation, but she wasn't sure what else to think. It was only logical.

Harry didn't respond for a long time, and Juliet began to fear that her explanation was, in fact, correct. What he uttered next, however, made her jaw drop open and her dark eyes cloud over with rage.

"It's from my detention with Umbridge." He sounded almost ashamed, though Juliet could not fathom _why_.

"You said that she made you do lines," Juliet spat, her voice low and dangerous. Harry shrank back from her enraged, menacing gaze, perhaps mistakenly believing that it was meant for him.

"She did, but she made me use some sort of enchanted quill."

It all made sense, and Juliet wanted simultaneously to retch and to march down to Umbridge's office so that she could hex the horrible woman into oblivion. Her hatred for the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor—if she could even be called so—burned within her, seeming to increase tenfold by the second, and coursing through her veins like poison.

"We have to go to Dumbledore," Juliet said, releasing Harry's hand suddenly and rocketing to her feet. It fell limply back into his lap. She began to pace back and forth, lips placed and mind whirring so quickly it was almost audible. "He needs to know about this."

Harry rose up to meet her, grabbing her by the shoulders. He looked her squarely in the eye, green into black, and Juliet immediately knew what he was going to say.

"No, Juliet, we are not going to tell _anyone_ about this. I am not going to give Umbridge the satisfaction of running to Dumbledore. I can handle her on my own."

"Harry," she pleaded, "let's at least go to my father. He can heal your hand. It looks like it hurts like hell." Juliet knew how ridiculous the idea sounded to Harry, but she didn't care. They had to tell _someone_, some adult that could fight back more easily than they could. Suddenly, though, a sickening realization hit her.

Perhaps no one _could_ fight back against Umbridge.

It took Juliet a moment to recognize that Harry had begun to speak again, and she turned back to meet his gaze, only vaguely registering his words.

"Juliet, please, promise me that you're not going to tell anyone about this. Not even Ron and Hermione." Juliet's mouth fell open. Harry told Ron and Hermione _everything_.

"Harry—"

"Please, Juliet." Juliet bit her bottom lip, wondering just what she was getting herself into. When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper.

"All right. I—I promise."

…

For the first few days, Juliet found it quite difficult not to stare at Harry's injured hand, which he always kept concealed within his robes, or blurt out exactly what was going on to Ron and Hermione. Harry kept a watchful eye on her, though, stepping in every time she seemed to be getting close to revealing the information. Eventually, though, as the days turned into weeks, and each Defense Against the Dark Arts class passed with relatively little incident, Juliet grudgingly resolved that it wouldn't be as hard as she thought to keep Harry's secret.

It was about four weeks after she had found him in the common room, though, when winter was approaching earnestly, that things took a turn for the worse.

"Have you three seen this garbage in the _Daily Prophet_?" Hermione, who had long since forgiven Juliet for their spat in the library, slammed a copy of the newspaper down onto the table in front of Harry, Ron, and Juliet. They all read the headline that emblazoned the front page, and Juliet, suddenly wishing she hadn't eaten such a large breakfast, felt her stomach churn at the very sight of the words.

_DOLORES UMBRIDGE MADE HIGH INQUISITOR OF HOGWARTS_

The horrific title was followed by an interview with Fudge, and Juliet could tell just by skimming it that the sorry excuse for a Minister had been the one to grant Umbridge her new title of honour.

"We've got to do something about this," said Hermione, crossing her arms over her chest and sinking sulkily into the seat across from her friends. "I don't know how much more I can take of blindly doing whatever that horrible woman says."

"I know something we could do," piped up, Juliet, inconspicuously pushing her half-finished plate away from her. Ron, seemingly unaffected by the news—at least in a physical capacity—took it upon himself to take over for her. He was, of course, not one to be wasteful.

"What's that, Jules?" he asked interestedly, pointedly ignoring Hermione's disgusted look at his food consumption.

"We could get a bunch of other students together—there's got to be plenty that hate Umbridge—and talk about what we can do to stop her Reign of Terror."

"We could meet up during the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend!" cried Hermione in excitement. "Harry, would you mind speaking to everyone? People need to hear your side of the story, once and for all, and if they're there voluntarily, we can be sure they'll listen." Harry looked as though he was about to protest, but Hermione had already assumed his affirmation and moved on to other points of planning, continuing to ramble about preparations and possible meeting places.

Juliet glanced at Harry, lips pursing in worry. Clearly, he didn't want to blatantly go against Umbridge, as Hermione seemed to be planning. Juliet certainly couldn't blame him, and felt another wave of nausea wash over her as she thought of the words, _I will not tell lies_, etched into the skin of his hand.

"...Three Broomsticks will be too conspicuous," Ron was saying, and Juliet felt slightly more relieved that they were evidently planning to keep the meeting a secret. "I know a place we could go, but I don't think you'll like it."

"What is it?" asked Hermione impatiently, hurriedly scrawling everything down on a piece of parchment that she had seemingly procured from nowhere.

"It's called the Hog's Head."

…

Hermione was going to kill her.

Juliet had been down in the dungeons eating lunch with her father, and had completely lost track of time. She was late for the meeting, and knew that no matter how fast she ran, she wasn't going to make it to the Hog's Head (of course Ron had to pick a pub that was on the other bloody end of Hogsmeade) on time.

Nonetheless, she was racing up the stairs, clutching her traveling cloak about her to prepare for the blistering cold that awaited her outside. So great was her haste that she didn't see another student in the corridor, directly blocking her path.

Juliet tried to skid to a stop, but she had reacted to late. She barreled directly into the other student, who gave a great _oomph _of surprise, and the two tumbled to the ground together. They were a tangle of robes and limbs, and it took a moment for Juliet to see who she had landed on.

Suddenly, she found herself staring into the eyes of a very surprised Draco Malfoy. She too was taken aback, and neither of them could speak for a moment. After a moment, though, Draco's face twisted into a glare. Juliet's immediate reaction was to return the gesture, but something stopped her.

The corner's of Draco's mouth were twitching—he was trying not to smile.

"Draco!" she exclaimed, finally reclaiming her voice. "I, uh, I didn't see you there." Fully aware of how lame she sounded, Juliet looked away, blushing and climbed off of her ex-boyfriend.

"Clearly," he answered sarcastically when they were both back on their feet. He brushed the dust off of his robes, a grin gracing his mouth despite his obvious efforts to the contrary.

"Sorry, I was just in a hurry to get to Hogsmeade, and, er—well, yeah." Juliet trailed off pitifully, not altogether certain as to why she was stuttering like an idiot. A small voice at the back of her mind nagged that, perhaps, even after everything, Draco still had that affect on her.

"Well anyway," she finished with an air of something like defeat, "sorry I landed on top of you."

"It wasn't the first time," Draco returned, giving her a coy smirk. Surprised, Juliet allowed a laugh to escape her.

"No, I suppose it wasn't. I—I'll see you around, Draco."

She was several steps away when she heard him speak again.

"I miss you."

His words were softer this time, and rushed, as though they were tumbling from his lips without express permission from his brain. Indeed, when she turned around to face him, he seemed shocked by his own declaration, and she knew it had been nothing more than a slip of the tongue. She smiled, genuinely, her eyes softening.

"I miss you, too." It wasn't a lie.

Suddenly, his whole demeanor changed, as if he was a different person than who he had been mere seconds ago. He held out his hand, and it seemed to Juliet to be one of the most welcoming gestures she had ever seen. It coaxed a wider smile onto her lips, and she realized with horrifying clarity that no matter what he did, she couldn't resist him.

"Forgive me?" His voice was angelic.

Unable to suppress her smile, Juliet walked towards him, all of her recent memories of him seeming to slip away. Suddenly, she couldn't quite remember what she'd been angry at him about.

"Only if you promise that we won't fight anymore."

He didn't hesitate. "I promise." Before she could react, he pulled her to him, and his lips were upon hers. Merlin, how she'd missed kissing him. All coherent thought flew away as her lips molded to his, and she leaned into the embrace, only breaking apart when her lungs began to scream for oxygen.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, she stepped away. "I have to go meet my friends, but you and I can meet up tonight before curfew, if you'd like."

Draco smiled. "I'd like that very much."

She walked away, grin fading as she went, but the content feeling remaining. She began to wonder what exactly was wrong with her. Shaking it off, she allowed a smile to cross her features once more.

…

Clearly, Ron had been right that the Hog's Head would be out of the way. It was placed near the farthest border of Hogsmeade, and it was the type of pub that one went in to, quite literally, drown in their sorrows, rather than drown them.

All of the students were already gathered when she walked through the door. In fact, it seemed as though the meeting was wrapping up. Juliet caught Hermione's eye, expecting the other girl to be annoyed at her tardiness, but instead was greeting with quite the opposite. Hermione looked downright jubilant, and she came over, explaining to Juliet just why that was.

"We're calling it Dumbledore's Army," she said when she'd finished. "The DA for short."

Juliet smiled, and it occurred to her that she'd done so more that day than she had all term. "I love the name, Hermione."

"Come sign the paper, then."

She walked up to the parchment that all of the others had signed, picking up the quill with no hesitation. Catching the eye of Harry and Ron, she took in their pleased expressions and felt as if, for once, everything seemed to be going right.

If only she had known.

Face still adorned with a grin, she signed her name.


	15. The Weasley Nightmare

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 15: The Weasley Nightmare**

**(A/N: I've been getting a lot of comments lately of people telling me that they hate Draco/Juliet. Trust me, I feel the same way that you do. She's just at that awkward stage in her life where moving on from her first serious boyfriend is insanely scary. We've all been there. This chapter, though, may change everything. Enjoy and review (oh, and be patient, all you Harry/Juliet lovers—that's all I'll say).**

When Monday arrived, Juliet awoke to find that Hermione had already gone to the library, opting to skip breakfast to get in some last minute extra credit before the first lessons of the day. Harry, too, was skipping the morning meal. Ron, who was waiting for Juliet in the common room, informed her that Harry had been tossing and turning nearly all night, and needed the extra hour to get some sleep.

"Did you see the _Sunday Prophet_ yesterday?" asked Ron as the two made their way down to the Great Hall. "The article about Umbridge being made High Inquisitor of Hogwarts?"

Juliet nodded morosely. She normally didn't pay much attention to the garbage that was published in the _Prophet_, but it had been hard to ignore, what with the whole castle talking about it—not to mention the new placard on Umbridge's office door that was emblazoned with the title.

As if on cue, an announcement—in Umbridge's magically magnified voice—began to ring through the corridors, startling every student in the vicinity.

"This is a reminder that all clubs and organizations must be approved by the High Inquisitor. All students caught participating in a non-approved organization will be subjected to severe punishment. That is all. Have a splendid day!" When the voice cut out, Juliet had to resist the urge to wince. Even when she wasn't actually there, Umbridge's voice was still saccharine enough to make her nauseous.

'Severe punishment,' she had said. A vivid image of Harry's mutilated hand flashed in Juliet's mind, and her fists clenched in anger.

"You realize what this means, right," said Ron suddenly, pulling her back to attention.

She nodded. "It means that Umbridge is suspicious of us."

It should have frightened her, but for some inexplicable reason, Juliet found herself more determined than ever.

…

It seemed that a vast majority of Dumbledore's Army shared Juliet's sentiment, because they continued to meet as often as possible. It was a bit difficult, what with Umbridge—and, by extension, Filch and Mrs. Norris—patrolling the corridors and watching all of the students for even the slightest suggestion of wrongdoing, but they found their ways.

It became easier when Neville found a permanent place for their sessions. Hermione said the the room, which none of them had seen before, was called the Room of Requirement. It was mentioned in passing in _Hogwarts, A History_, and in a few other books she had read, but she had been convinced that it was simply an old myth.

Juliet found that she actually rather enjoyed the meetings of the D.A. It was rather thrilling, actually, meeting in secret, defying that horrid woman—and, as Hermione said, breaking the rules. Best of all, though, were the other people there. Juliet got to spend time with her best friends—Harry, Ron, Hermione, Neville, and Luna, but with a great many others as well. Ron's younger sister Ginny and her boyfriend Dean were quite nice, as were the Patil twins and a few others.

Not all of the members were an absolute delight, of course—Zacharias Smith was a bit of a prat, and Cho Chang and Lavender Brown were two of the most irritating creatures on the planet, but Juliet didn't allow them to bother her too much. She was having far too much fun for that.

What pleased her most of all about her new friends, though, was something quite simple. Not one of them asked prying questions about her father, her home life, or anything of the sort. In the D.A., she wasn't 'Snape's daughter.' She was simply 'Juliet.'

On one particular night, when there had been no D.A. meeting, Draco was walking Juliet up to Gryffindor Tower just before curfew. They had spent a few hours together in the library, and though Draco had tried to lead her off into a shadowy corner, Juliet had laughingly insisted that they really should study. Her father had given them a mountain of homework that day. Draco had pouted, but ultimately complied.

When they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady, Draco leaned down to give Juliet a quick kiss. She kissed him back, wrapping her arms around her neck. Draco pulled her closer and they kissed for a moment longer, but then Juliet pulled away, stepping out of his embrace.

Draco stared at her for a moment, seemingly disoriented, but then realization dawned on his features. "Oh! I almost forgot to tell you, Jules. You know Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad—I've joined! All my friends have, too. I reckon it's best to get on her good side, right?"

Juliet's eyebrows shot up in surprise, annoyance blossoming in her chest. It was no secret that she hated Umbridge—especially to Draco, whom she had complained to a number of times. Some small, irrational part of her wondered if he had it to annoy her, but remembering their promise not to fight, she forced a smile onto her face.

"That's great, honey. I hope you have fun." She leaned up once more, planting a chaste kiss on his cheek. "I should get to bed, and you need to get back to the Slytherin dorms before curfew. Goodnight."

Before Draco could say another word, Juliet climbed through the portrait hole. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting in a corner of the common room, their heads bowed together. Juliet marched over, plopping unceremoniously down next to Ron on one of the couches. All three looked to her in surprise, and she began to speak without any sort of introduction.

"Draco's joined the Inquisitorial Squad."

Much to Juliet's shock (and dismay), Hermione's face lit up. "Juliet! That's brilliant!"

"Are you mad?" asked Juliet, staring incredulously at her friend, who was practically shaking with excitement. "He's joined Umbridge's little group of minions! That's terrible!"

"I have to agree with Juliet on this one," said Harry. "I'm not sure why you're so happy, Hermione."

In response, Hermione jumped up from her seat, beginning to pace back and forth. "Don't you three get it? Juliet and Draco are dating, and that makes him a link to the other side! She can get information from him, find out if Umbride knows anything, help us plan! It's perfect!"

Harry and Ron finally seemed to understand, and wide smiles broke across their faces as well. Only Juliet was left looking shocked and bewildered.

"Hermione, you're a genius!" said Harry. He seemed almost as excited as their bushy-haired friend now, though he remained in his seat. "If Juliet asks Malfoy the right questions—"

"No." At her one, deadpanned word, all of their heads snapped to Juliet. She knew that they were appalled by her refusal, but she wasn't about to be swayed. Not even if the entirety of Dumbledore's Army got down on their knees and begged her.

"But, Jules—"

"No," she repeated. "Absolutely not. I won't do it."

"Juliet, I don't think you understand," said Hermione, wringing her hands together nervously. "This could be the difference between keeping Dumbledore's Army alive and—"

"I understand perfectly well," cut in Juliet, crossing her arms over her chest defensively, "but it's not right. I'm not going to manipulate my boyfriend for information, Hermione. I'm sorry, but I won't."

Juliet knew that her friends were unhappy with her decision, but it seemed that they had heard something in her tone that made it clear the conversation was over. They fell into a tense silence, and no more was said on the matter.

…

Juliet was sleeping, but she was not dreaming.

It was a nice change, really. With all of her problems—the predicament she'd gotten herself into with the Death Eaters, the double agent situation with her father, Goyle's suspicions—nightmares were a regular occurrence for Severus Snape's daughter. Sometimes, even her long-dead mother would find her way back into Juliet's unconscious.

That night, though, her mind was blank; blissfully, utterly still. That was, of course, until the peace was shattered.

She found herself being shaken, and for a moment Juliet had no idea what was going on. Disoriented and admittedly frightened, she shrank away from her assailant, trying to force her arms up into a defensive position.

"_Juliet_," the person whispered. "_Juliet!_" The voice sounded a lot like Hermione, and she sounded quite panicked.

"'Mione?" she mumbled. "Wha'sa matter?"

"Juliet, you have to get up! Something's wrong with Harry, he's saying something about Mr. Weasley being attacked—"

Suddenly, Juliet felt wide awake. She sat up sharply, narrowly avoiding knocking foreheads with Hermione, who had been leaning over the bed. As quietly as possible, she got out from under her blankets and grabbed her traveling cloak, donning it over her pajamas. Trying desperately not to rouse the other sleeping girls in their dormitory, Hermione and Juliet ran to the stairs and down to the common room.

Fred, George, and Ginny stood there, clad the same way as the two newcomers—traveling cloaks over sleeping clothes. Their presence heightened Juliet's anxiety. If the Weasley children were present, perhaps something really had happened to their father.

"Where's Ron?" asked Juliet breathlessly, noticing that he wasn't among his siblings. An intense wave of panic-driven nausea threatened to overtake her as she thought up the worst possible answers to her question, but she fought it off. There was no reason to overreact—Hermione had said nothing about Ron being harmed.

"He's already in Dumbledore's office," said Fred, already walking towards the portrait hole. His brother and sister followed, with Hermione and Juliet close on their heels.

The walk to the Headmaster's office seemed to take an excruciating amount of time, even with all of the children practically running there. When they finally arrived in front of the door, struggling to draw breath, even the stone gargoyles that usually stood guard said nothing. They simply moved aside and gave them access to the winding stone staircase.

The wooden door was propped open when they reached it, and they burst uninvited into the office. Harry and Ron were there—the former looking quite worse for wear—as were Professor McGonogall, Severus, and Dumbledore himself. Juliet's father eyed her suspiciously, an unspoken question written on his face. She gave him a pleading look, and he chose to stay silent.

"Professor," said Ginny, stepping toward Dumbledore, "please tell us what's going on. Is our dad all right?" The youngest Weasley's eyes were beginning to glisten with tears, and this was thoroughly surprising to Juliet. Ginny was tough and steadfast—not the type of girl to fall down weeping at the first sign of trouble.

"Your father has been rescued, Miss Weasley," said Dumbledore, gazing down at her kindly. There was a collective sigh of relief from all of the Weasley children, Hermione, and Juliet. Harry stood off to the side, still looking miserable, but Juliet couldn't bring herself to pay him much mind.

"Go on, sir," said Ginny.

Dumbledore nodded, his eyes flickering briefly over to Harry. "Thanks to Mr. Potter's warning, members of the Order were able to find Arthur before any lethal damage was inflicted, and he has been taken to St. Mungo's. The Healers are treating him as we speak. He will have scars, certainly, but your father will survive."

Ginny, finally giving into her tears, was wrapped into a hug by Fred and George. Juliet looked over at her own father, feeling faint at the thought of what she would do if it were him who had been attacked. He seemed almost to understand her thoughts, and a small flash of warmth, only for her to see, flashed through his eyes.

"Sir," said Juliet, turning back to Dumbledore, "I'm still confused. How did Harry—"

Juliet was cut off by Ron's hand taking hers. He squeezed it tightly, and she looked up catching his eye. There was a silent message there, and she understood it immediately—he'd tell her later. Biting her lip, Juliet turned away from the Headmaster, her unfinished question handing almost tangibly in the air. After a moment of thick silence, Dumbledore spoke once more.

"I have arranged for a Portkey to take all the Weasley children to St. Mungo's. You will be permitted to see your father when he is stabilized." Dumbledore crossed the room to his desk, and motioned towards a shiny metal quill. "It will leave in five minutes."

"Harry, Hermione, and Juliet are coming with us," said Ron stonily. He still hadn't let go of Juliet's hand, and this didn't escape her notice. No one in the room dared to argue with him—not even Severus. No more words were spoken for a long while, and when the quill began to glow blue, Ron tugged Juliet toward it, and she placed one of her fingers on the metal surface, next to his. Fred, George, Ginny, Hermione, and Harry did the same.

Juliet had always hated traveling by Portkey, and the sharp tug behind her abdomen was as uncomfortable as ever. The spun through the air, everything around them blurring into a colourless abyss. Absurdly, Juliet found herself remembering the first time she and her father had gone somewhere by Portkey. She was seven, and their destination was Diagon Alley—specifically, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. She had screamed throughout the whole experience, terrified beyond imagination.

Now, she was silent.

St. Mungo's was bustling when they arrived, despite it being as late as it was. It seemed that there was no shortage of magical maladies and injuries, even in the dead of night. A young male Healer led them to an elevator, and up to the seventh floor, where Mr. Weasley was being treated.

There was a waiting room, filled with old issues of the _Daily Prophet_ and various wizarding magazines. One might have mistook it for waiting area in a Muggle hospital, if the pictures hadn't been moving. That was where Mrs. Weasley met them, looking as though she was close to passing out.

They sat there for what seemed like ages. Juliet was in between Harry and Ron on one of the hideous, uncomfortable couches—when Harry remained sitting, that is. He alternated between staring blankly at one of the bare white walls and pacing back and forth in the tiny room. His expression was agonized, and he spoke to no one.

Finally, an older Healer came out, a clipboard and furiously writing quill floating alongside him, and approached Mrs. Weasley. He didn't bother to keep his tone down, as everyone in the room had turned sharply upon his entrance and seemed intent to hang on his every word.

"Arthur Weasley has been stabilized, and you may see him, but I must request that only immediate family enter his room for the time being." Immediately, Mrs. Weasley, Fred, George, and Ginny filed out behind the Healer. Ron hesitated, looking back at his friends. Juliet and Hermione both gave him encouraging smiles, but Harry, who had gone to stand by the window, his back to them, said nothing. Sighing resignedly, Ron left the room to follow his family.

"Harry," Juliet said cautiously, rising from the couch and going to stand beside him, "what's the matter? You've been withdrawn all evening."

"Nothing's wrong, Juliet," he said sharply, his tone making it clear that he didn't want to talk.

Juliet, though, wasn't about to give up. "Harry, please, I just—"

"No!" Harry's voice had risen to a dangerous level, and Juliet feared that a Healer was going to come along and kick them out. "I said nothing's wrong, why can't you just accept that? Just leave me the hell alone!"

Without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.

…

After leaving St. Mungo's the next afternoon, they decided to spend the weekend at the Weasley home. The children would return to Hogwarts on Monday morning.

Juliet had never been to the Burrow, and she immediately loved it. It was so different from her own house on Spinner's End—warm, bright colors; everything not in its place; enchanted objects flying about willy-nilly, doing all sorts of housework. It was wonderfully chaotic, in her opinion.

Mrs. Weasley, reassured that her husband was going to survive, did her best to remain cheerful and make the atmosphere comfortable for the sudden surge of teenagers she once again had in her home. She made them a delicious supper, and found sleeping arrangements for all of them. Harry would be bunking with Ron, as he had in the past, and Hermione would sleep in Ginny's room. Juliet was taking Percy's old room, right next door to the twins.

It was long after everyone had gone to sleep, and the house was silent, but Juliet still found herself staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Finally, resigning herself to the fact that she was not going to drift off any time soon, Juliet threw the covers off her body and donned her slippers. As quietly as she could, she made her way up one of the Weasleys' rickety wooden staircases to the only place she could think to go.

Ron opened his bedroom door almost immediately after Juliet knocked, not looking entirely surprised to see her there.

"You couldn't sleep either?" he asked, stepping aside to let her into the room. She nodded, looking around the place. It was decked out with all sorts of Chudley Cannons memorabilia—moving posters covered every inch of the orange walls.

"Where's Harry?" asked Juliet, noticing that the other boy was nowhere to be found.

"He left half an hour ago," Ron replied, going over to sit down on his bed. "He said that he needed some air?"

"In the middle of the night? Merlin, what's gotten into him? You should have heard him yelling at me back at St. Mungo's."

"I did," said Ron, grinning cheekily. "I'm fairly sure that the whole hospital heard him."

Juliet smiled in return, sitting down next to Ron on the bed. "You still never explained to me how Harry knew about your dad."

Ron's face grew serious, and he stared over at Harry's vacated, makeshift bed. "He saw it in a dream. Hermione reckons that You-Know-Who sent it to him or something like that."

"Why would he do that? If he sent his snake to...attack your dad, wouldn't he want to keep it a secret from Harry? From the Order?"

"Maybe he sent it by mistake," said Ron, running a hand tiredly down his face. "I mean, it's pretty clear by now that Harry and You-Know-Who are connected somehow. I mean, he took Harry's blood last year to revive himself. Maybe that's got something to do with it." Juliet mentally slapped herself when she caught Ron's expression as he said this. She was being entirely unsympathetic.

"How are _you_ doing with all of this?" she asked, laying a hand on his shoulder.

Ron shrugged. "I won't lie to you—I was scared out of my wits earlier. I can't imagine what would have happened if they hadn't gotten to my dad in time. I mean, first Percy, then my dad—it would've killed Mum. I'm just glad he's going to be okay."

Juliet smiled halfheartedly. "Me too."

"Do you mind if we talk about something else, though, Jules?" said Ron after a moment. "There's something I've been meaning to bring up to you."

"Sure," she replied. "What is it?"

"Well," Ron said, slowly and deliberately, as though choosing each word carefully, "I'm just wondering what made you want to get back together with Malfoy. I really thought you were done with him this time."

_I should have seen that one coming_, thought Juliet, wincing. Out loud, she said, "I thought I was, too, but Draco was the first real friend I ever had. I can't say that about anyone else, and I'll always love him for that."

"Do you think maybe you're trying to force those feelings of friendship into a relationship?" asked Ron. Juliet bit down hard on her bottom lip, pondering his words. When she thought of Draco, she always flashed back to the eleven-year-old boy she'd met in Ollivander's—the little boy who had agreed to write her to when he went off to Hogwarts. For three long years, she'd lived vicariously through him.

But fifteen-year-old Draco was completely different.

"I suppose," she said finally, "that it's possible that I only got back together with Draco because I missed having him around. He makes me feel...content."

"I think you should do what makes you happy, not just what makes you content."

Slowly, Juliet felt something flutter in her chest. Realization dawned in her eyes, and her breath suddenly became shorter. She turned to Ron, the flowing from her mouth without any sort of prior authorization from her.

"All this time, I thought Draco was my best friend. I guess it makes sense, because he was the only friend I had for a long time. But...when I think about it, he's not. You are."

What happened then was completely beyond Juliet's control. She barely noticed Ron's hands cupping her cheeks. All she could see was his eyes, which were staring into hers, and he leaned down, ever so slowly.

When his lips touched hers, she didn't push him away.

**(A/N: Some of you are going to hate this chapter, but don't fret! I have a PLAN my darlings! And I think the very end of Juliet's tale is going to satisfy most of you. On that note, don't think that this chapter means it's going to be all sunshine and unicorns for Juliet and Ron. They're both very vulnerable, and Juliet just cheated on her boyfriend. I think it's safe to say sparks are gonna fly—but will they be good or bad? That being said, this chapter has been a long time coming, and I'm very excited to write the rest of Sweet Juliet: Part 2. I hope you'll stick around!**

**One more thing: I'd like to do another poll, because I love them. This one has nothing to do with my story in particular; I'm just curious. Who's your favorite Harry Potter character? Mine is Tom Riddle (circa 40's, pre-snake-face and pre-Horcruxes). Let me know in a review.**

**Expect chapter 15 by, let's say...Wednesday? Yeah, that sounds good. I would've gotten this one out a few days ago, but I'm in the musical at my school (_Phantom of the Opera_) and it's eating up all of my time. Next Friday and Saturday are our last two shows, though, and then it's back to writing for me. Sorry for the obscenely long author's note!)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows (Kenzi) **


	16. What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 16: What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted **

**(A/N: The next chapter already? How lucky that senior year has given me several study halls. Keep responding to my poll from the last chapter [who is your favorite Harry Potter character?], and leave a review for this one. Enjoy!)**

Juliet was dreading the rising of the sun. She had rightly and truly screwed herself over, not pushing Ron away when he had kissed her. When they broke apart, both of them had been deathly silent, staring at each other in shock. She had run from the room before he could work up the nerve to speak, and had spent the remainder of the night staring at the low ceiling of Percy's room, wondering what the hell had come over her.

It should have been obvious, really. They'd both had a traumatizing day, and her words about Ron being her best friend, though they were true, were achingly sentimental. Even hours later, as she repeated them over and over in her mind, she couldn't help the embarrassment that crept up her chest at the very thought of her mawkishness.

There was the simple fact, too, that Ron was a teenage boy, and he'd had a girl in his room—on his _bed_—late at night, with no one else around. And Ron and Juliet had been growing ever closer for months. Looking back, Juliet realized all the signs she had missed, and resisted the urge to grown in despair.

She had no idea how she was going to dig herself out of this one.

Finally working up the courage to face her fate, Juliet donned the day clothes she had borrowed from Ginny and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. Luckily, she didn't run into anyone on the way, and so was able to go over her plan in her head. It consisted of two words: _avoid Ron_.

"Good morning, Juliet!" Mrs. Weasley greeted her upon her entrance, still keeping up her façade of jollity, her face adorned with a warm, yet exhausted smile. "You're the last one up, dear. We were all just about to sit down for breakfast." Looking around the rickety dining table, Juliet found with dread that the only seat available was the one directly in between Ron and Hermione.

Purposefully avoiding the gaze of the former, Juliet lowered herself into the seat. Harry was directly across from her, looking slightly less despondent than the previous day. The sight of him reminded her of the incident in the waiting room at St. Mungo's, and her annoyance fluttered back to life. She'd certainly have to give Mr. Potter a talking-to after their meal.

Breakfast was a chaotic affair at the Burrow, even with the three oldest children and Mr. Weasley being absent. Juliet and Hermione tried to offer help to Mrs. Weasley, but she simply shooed them away, waving off their offers with a brave attempt at a grin. Juliet had to admire the woman—now she knew where Ron, Ginny, and the twins had inherited their stubborn personalities from.

At last, when everyone had scattered about the house, either going upstairs or outside, Juliet found herself alone in the kitchen. She was washing the last few dishes behind Mrs. Weasley's back, determined to help in some way. She took a deep breath, relishing in her triumph—she had managed to avoid saying a single word to Ron throughout the whole morning.

"I know you're avoiding me, Juliet."

_Damn_, she thought. _So much for that. _Slowly, she turned around, trying to keep the apprehension off of her face.

"I don't know what you're talking—"

"Come on, Juliet," Ron interrupted, surprising Juliet with his almost pleading tone, "don't play dumb. Something about what happened last night has got you really freaked out. Just tell me what you're thinking and maybe I can help."

"Ron," said Juliet, stepping closer to him and lowering her voice, "can't you understand why I'm upset? What we did last night was _wrong_, it was a mistake—"

Ron cut her off again, anger entering his blue eyes for the first time. "A mistake? What, are you suddenly worried about what Malfoy would think? Last night you were going on about how he's not the person you thought he was, how you're not in love with him anymore—"

"Of course I care what he thinks about this, Ron!" said Juliet, anger colouring her tone as well. Suddenly, she stilled, taking a deep breath to quell her ire. "I don't want to talk about this right now, Ron. Excuse me." She made to move out of the kitchen, but Ron caught her arm, effectively holding her in place. Irrational fear bubbled in Juliet's chest, but she tried to calm herself, ignoring his disproportionately tight grip. Ron wasn't Christine.

"Neither of us is going anywhere until you explain to me what the hell is going through your head right now." Ron's voice was a whisper, but he sounded incredibly angry. The fear continued to rise in Juliet's throat like bile, but she forced herself not to panic.

"Ron, I _cheated_ on my boyfriend! I know you don't like him, and he may have done some terrible things, but no one deserves that. Whatever kind of person he is or isn't, I at least owe him the courtesy of telling him the truth."

Ron took a deep breath, seemingly trying to keep his anger in check. His blue eyes calmed, and he released his grip on her arm. Juliet rubbed at the afflicted spot, her breathing beginning to return to a normal rate. She thought that their conversation was over, but just as she was about to make her way past Ron and out of the kitchen, he spoke again.

"Are you going to break up with Malfoy?" Juliet stopped, looking directly into his eyes. She could lie—it would be so much easier. Could she do that to Ron, though?

"I haven't decided yet," she answered honestly. There was a beat of silence, in which Ron refused to look away from her. Then Juliet spoke again. "When he finds out the truth, though, it may not matter."

…

Ron barely spoke to Juliet for the remainder of the weekend. When Sunday afternoon arrived—the day they were to Floo back to Hogwarts—Juliet had come to a decision about Draco. It was going to be hard, she knew, but she had to do it. It wouldn't be right any other way.

When they finally tumbled, one by one, out of the fireplace and onto the floor of Dumbledore's office, Juliet was the first to leave the room. Suddenly, she didn't want the company of her friends. She didn't even want to go and visit her father, whom she hadn't seen in two days. There was only one person she wanted to talk to.

She found Draco in the Great Hall, eating lunch at the Slytherin table. His friends glared at her as she approached them, but to Juliet, it was as if they weren't even there. His grey eyes met her, and the urge to cry that had been plaguing her all morning grew stronger. She swallowed, hard, and tried to find her voice, but Draco spoke first.

"Juliet!" he said, his face lighting up at the sight of her. "Where have you been all weekend?"

"Can I talk to you outside?" she asked, her voice smaller and weaker than she would have preferred it to be. Draco's brow furrowed in confusion, but he complied, rising from his seat and following her out of the room. Once they were safely in a corner of the Entrance Hall, where she was sure they couldn't be overheard, Juliet took a deep breath and steeled herself for the worst.

Draco opened his mouth, presumably to ask her what was the matter, but she cut him off. "Draco, I have to tell you something, and you're not going to like it." She waited for him to say something, but he remained silent, eyeing her warily. "Something happened to Ron's dad this weekend, and we were visiting him in the hospital. It was very stressful for everyone, you see, and…and I—I…"

She found herself unable to go on and Draco, worry creeping into his expression, took her hands in his and held them tightly. The gesture of affection served only to upset her more, and she was barely able to choke back the wave of tears that was swimming directly behind her eyes.

"You can tell me, Juliet," he said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me." Juliet looked up at him, the guilt and fear swirling so powerfully within her that it was almost dizzying. She took several deep breaths, gulping in air as though it would no longer exist if she didn't get enough of it, and then, finally, she said it.

"I kissed Ron."

Technically, Ron had kissed her first, but Juliet had hoped to alleviate some of Draco's hatred towards her friends by placing them blame on herself. Besides, she _had _kissed him back, so it wasn't a complete lie.

Draco was silent—so silent, indeed, that she began to worry that he would never speak again. She certainly wouldn't blame him. She was disgusted with herself. He had trusted her—she was one of the _only_ people he trusted, and she had betrayed him. She'd never felt so dirty. Just as Juliet opened her mouth to begin babbling an apology, Draco spoke.

"I love you, Juliet. This doesn't change that." Juliet glanced down, noticing that he hadn't relinquished his grip on her hands. He took a deep, trembling breath, mirroring hers. "We can get past this…I want to try to make this work."

All of a sudden, the tears spilled over. Juliet couldn't stop them, nor did she want to; it felt good to cry. She looked at Draco, his words flying through her mind on a rapid loop. _I want to try to make this work_. She had been afraid of this.

She pulled her hands from his. "But I don't, Draco." A choked sob ripped through her throat, and she didn't bother to wipe the tears from her cheeks. They would have been immediately replaced anyway. "I don't. I can't." He was silent, and words spilled forth from her lips, utterly unchecked. It felt almost freeing to finally let them out into the air.

"We're just too different now. I'm not the eleven-year-old girl you met in Ollivander's, or even the girl you wrote to all those years. Things have changed, Draco. I've changed." Draco refused to meet her eye, and it broke Juliet's heart. The tears flowed faster, running down her cheeks in hot rivulets.

"I hope you find someone that makes you happy, Juliet."

And that was it. Without another word, he turned and walked away, leaving her there in the abandoned Entrance Hall. Her hands, which had so recently been enveloped in his, hung limply by her sides. As he disappeared from her view, her breath caught in her chest and another sob escaped. She didn't care if anyone heard her; all she could see was the image of him leaving, and knew that it would be ingrained into her mind, etched into her memory, forever.

She knew then, instinctively, that this wasn't like all of the other times they had split up. Whether or not she had done the right thing, she couldn't be certain, but it was perfectly clear that they were over—for good.

He was gone.

…

Harry found Juliet in the common room a while later, curled up in an armchair. He dark eyes were dull, almost glazed over, as she stared into the crackling fire. Her shoulders sagged, and she was resting her chin on her knees—the perfect picture of despondency.

"Juliet?" he asked, going to sit beside her. "Are you all right?" She looked up to meet his emerald gaze, not bothering to hide her exhaustion, but praying that her eyes weren't still red and puffy from crying.

"I suppose," she answered. "Draco and I broke up."

Not entirely to Juliet's surprise, Harry broke out into a smile. "Honestly, Juliet, you two break up and make up more that the couples on the soap operas that my Aunt Petunia watches." She laughed with him. Though she didn't completely understand the joke, his attempt and humour was welcome—even refreshing.

She sobered quickly, though, her expression reverting to one of acquiescent sadness. "Well, that may be true, but there's not going to be a make-up this time, Harry." If this surprised Harry, he said nothing, instead letting her continue. "Draco and I are done, and this time it's permanent. Even if my decision turns out to be the wrong one, I'm not going to put him through my emotional roller coaster anymore. He deserves better than that."

Juliet knew that Harry was dying to voice his less-than-friendly thoughts on the last part of her speech, but he kept quietly. Thankfully, a few moments later, he exited the common room and left her to her thoughts.

Hours passed this way, with Juliet sitting in the same armchair, remaining in the same position, staring into the fire. People occasionally came and went from the common room, though no one paid her much mind. Occasionally a first or second year would stare at her and whisper in tones they thought she couldn't hear, but they too eventually grew bored and let her ponder in solitude.

When night finally fell, and all the other students had gone to sleep, Juliet heard the quiet padding of slipper-clad feet on the stairs of the boys' dormitory. The footsteps approached the common room, stopping a few feet away from Juliet's chair. She didn't have to look up to know who it was.

Ron sat down across from her, and she found herself unintentionally glancing up to meet his eyes. They were silent for a while, neither of them wanting to be the first to look away. Ultimately, Ron was the one to break the quiet.

"Harry told me what you said…about your relationship with Malfoy."

Juliet didn't respond.

"Juliet…I've never been particularly good at voicing my feelings," he continued nervously. "Probably something to do with having five older brothers, but…I need to say this. For the longest time, I've been trying to convince myself that what I feel for you is just friendship, because you really are one of the best friends I've ever had, but…it turned out to be more. It probably has been all along—"

"It's too soon." Nothing about Juliet changed as she spoke—not her demeanor, not the position of her body, nothing. At first it was unclear if she was even the one who had said the words.

Ron's brow knit in confusion. "What do you mean 'too soon?' When I kissed you, you kissed me back."

"Ron," Juliet replied, finally shifting a bit, the only physical manifestation of her apprehension, "we were both very vulnerable. With everything that was going on with your father—"

Clearly, it was the wrong thing to say. Ron's blue eyes lit up with fury, and his hands clenched on the armrests of his chair. "So you mean to tell me that you kissed me out of pity?"

Juliet's eyes widened in panic. "What? No! That's not what I was trying to say—"

"I can't _believe _you, Juliet. Who kisses someone because they feel sorry for them? That's just sick." Juliet was outright frantic at this point, trying vainly to deny Ron's accusations.

"Ron, no! I just—I'm not ready! So soon after breaking up with Draco, I mean!" Even as she spoke, Juliet instinctively knew that it was hopeless—Ron had completely stopped listening. As his voice rose, the side of her that wasn't completely terrified was worried that he was going to wake up the whole of Gryffindor Tower.

"I opened up to you, Juliet! I laid everything bare and you threw it back in my face!" Juliet fell silent, not knowing how to respond, but it only served to make Ron angrier.

What he said next was like a slap to the face.

"We were right about you from the very beginning. If we'd known who you really were, we'd never have been your friends at all."

He left, storming back up to his dormitory. Juliet sat in his wake, riddled with shock. And then, she realized something. Nothing—not Draco, not the stigma of her name, not even the things she had found out about her father the previous year—had ever made her feel more alone.

**(A/N: Finished it! Yay! Ron and his stupid male pride :D Anyway, I'm working on chapter 17 right now, so here's some little snippets for you:**

"**She hadn't cried like this since her mother had been around."**

"**He's seen it. He's seen…the day that I lost her."**

"**Whatever happened to upset you, Juliet, I know that you're strong enough to pull through it." **

**Make of those what you will :D Leave a review and let me know your favorite Harry Potter character! Just for fun, here's my top five:**

**1. Tom Riddle**

**2. Severus Snape**

**3. Luna Lovegood**

**4. Ron Weasley**

**5. Sirius Black**

**Now tell me yours!**

**Loves, **

**ChasedByTheShadows**


	17. The Morning After

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 17: The Morning After**

**(A/N: These updates are coming out like rapid fire :) Please leave a review, and I hope you enjoy the chapter!) **

Try as she may, Juliet knew that she wouldn't be able to avoid leaving her dormitory. They had lessons that day, and it would look suspicious if she missed class. Her father certainly wouldn't approve, and she didn't particularly want to get into an argument with him. She'd been in far too many of those as of late.

As she made her way down the stone stairs toward the common room, Hermione's voice floated up to greet her. Juliet knew without looking that she was talking to Harry and Ron, because she wouldn't have said the things that she was saying to anyone else.

"I don't know what's the matter with Juliet, but I'm worried about her. She was crying all throughout the night."

Juliet froze, torn between annoyance and an odd, gnawing sense of shame. She glanced to her right and found that as it was still relatively dark outside, she could see her reflection in the window. She looked absolutely terrible; her nose and eyes were red and raw, and her pale, ashen cheeks were still stained with the trails of her tears. She hadn't cried like this since her mother had been around.

She contemplated waiting for her friends to leave, but ultimately decided that she'd have to face Ron sooner or later. They were in the same House and year, after all, and had a vast majority of their lessons together. Perhaps it was best to get it over with. Steeling herself and swallowing to eradicate any residual tears, she finished descending the stone staircase.

All three of them stared at her as she entered the common room, but their expressions differed almost comically. Hermione was girlishly concerned—Juliet could practically feel the desire to talk about feelings radiating off of her. Harry, who had obviously noticed something was wrong with Ron as well, was more cautious than Hermione, but still looked quite worried for his clearly distraught friend.

Ron's expression was, by far, the most frightening. His face was completely, utterly blank, and it seemed as though it had always been that way—like he had never known emotion at all. Even his normally revealing blue eyes betrayed nothing. In that moment, he was little more than a cold, still statue.

Juliet gathered, from the confusion in the eyes of Harry and Hermione as they looked back and forth between their two friends, that neither of them knew the details of what had happened between her and Ron. She was silently thankful, though she knew it was most likely more of a favor to Ron himself than to her.

"Morning, Juliet," Hermione said timidly, a tone that wasn't entirely befitting of her. "Are—are you ready to go down to breakfast?" Juliet wanted to respond, but she didn't trust her voice just then, so she settled for a simple nod.

Their long trek to the Great Hall was made in absolute silence. Breakfast, and the day in general, passed in a blur for Juliet. It seemed that her feet were carrying her from place to place without being consciously permitted to do so by her mind. After lessons and dinner had concluded, Juliet followed her friends to the Room of Requirement for the scheduled meeting of Dumbledore's Army.

They were practicing relatively simple techniques—Disarming Spells, Stunning Spells, and the like—when all hell broke loose. The wall was blasted open, knocking several unfortunate D.A. members over with the force of the explosion.

Suddenly, dozens of students—all of them Slytherin—were piling into the room, led by none other than their fine High Inquisitor. They'd been found out, Juliet realized, by Umbridge's Inquisitorial Squad. Draco was among them, brandishing his wand and wearing his trademark smirk, and it was another jab to her already battered heart. She looked at him through the chaos, almost pleadingly, but she could tell that he was purposefully refusing to meet her eye.

They were dragged out, one by one, each of them manhandled by a different member of the Inquisitorial Squad. When they had been successfully herded into Umbridge's classroom, she delivered their sentencing. They would all be serving detentions once a week for the remainder of the term—and they were lucky that they weren't getting worse.

Juliet glanced at Harry, who was subconsciously rubbing at his left hand, and she felt immediately sick. Not getting any worse, her arse. The others had no idea what they were in for.

Harry, whom Umbridge had blamed for the whole ordeal, was detained longer than the rest, and taken to the Headmaster's office. Juliet felt herself relax (if only slightly); surely Dumbledore wouldn't allow the horrible woman to do anything too heinous to him.

She spoke to no one for some time, but instead settled herself in the armchair in the corner of the common room—the same one where Ron had found her the previous night—and tried to force her mind to go blank. It seemed adamant not to comply, though; everything she had done wrong over the past two weeks seemed to be swirling around in her head, so quickly that it was almost physically sickening.

Just as she was about to consider going up to her dormitory, where she might have a bit more privacy to sulk, a frantic Hermione came running up to Juliet. Harry and Ron were nowhere to be seen, and a flicker of worry bloomed in Juliet's chest.

"Juliet," said Hermione breathlessly, her expression that of someone who has just witnessed something catastrophic, "Ron and I have just spoken to Harry, and something awful has happened. Dumbledore...he's—he's gone."

Juliet's eyes widened, and for a moment she found herself fearing to know precisely what Hermione's statement had meant. "What do you mean, 'gone'?"

Hermione opened her mouth for a second, then closed it, as though deciding not to use the words that had been resting on her tongue. She repeated this motion a few times, looking the perfect picture of someone utterly unable to articulate. Juliet realized with a start that her clever friend was truly in shock.

"Dumbledore's resigned. He's not the Headmaster of Hogwarts anymore."

…

It had been three days.

Three days since Umbridge had driven Dumbledore out of Hogwarts, and it seemed the old hag couldn't be more pleased with herself. During the first detention of the D.A., her plump face had been adorned with a smile so twisted, so elated, that it made Juliet's stomach clench.

The students and staff had tried their best to recover from the abrupt departure of their beloved Headmaster—though their new Headmistress certainly wasn't simplifying this process—and the remaining professors were doing all they could to retain a sense of normalcy in the castle. McGonogall had been a key player in protecting all of them from feeling the full extent of Umbridge's wrath (thought this often entailed feeling the brunt of it herself), and for that, Juliet couldn't be more grateful to the woman she'd known since childhood.

The day after their detention, Juliet sat with Hermione in the library, studying. Rather, the latter was studying, while Juliet stared dejectedly at the book in front of her. This had been common for her as of late. Ever since her fight with Ron—which Harry and Hermione still knew next to nothing about—she hadn't been herself. It was as though nothing could bring her happiness, and it had left her as a mere shell of the lively girl she had once been.

Hermione looked up from her textbook after a while, and Juliet could feel the other girl's eyes on her. Hermione had been trying every tactic she knew for days, just to coax a smile from Juliet, but nothing would work. Juliet herself desperately wanted to feel better, but she couldn't deny or ignore the crushing depression that had descended upon her.

"Harry's been taking Occlumency lessons," said Hermione finally, trying and failing to get Juliet to look up at her. "Dumbledore ordered them after he had the nightmare about Mr. Weasley, and...your father is the one teaching him."

This development _did_ give pause to Juliet, though she kept her eyes trained on the text in front of her. She wondered vaguely why Severus hadn't told her about these lessons—surely he would have thought to mention it if he was having to spend long amounts of time alone with his least favorite student. She dismissed the thought quickly, though, realizing why this was. She'd been neglecting going to visit her father for quite a while, so they hadn't had much time to talk.

The now-familiar prickling of guilt started up in her chest, and Juliet closed her book with a snap. Resolving to go and see her father that night (perhaps _he _would be capable of cheering her up, even when Hermione had failed), she gathered up her bag and hurried out of the library with no more than a rushed, mumbled goodbye to her friend.

When Juliet reached the door to her father's office, she heard voices coming from inside. One of them was, of course, Severus', but the other sounded strangely like Harry.

Before Juliet could reach up to knock on the wooden door, it was thrown violently open, and she narrowly avoided a blow to the face. The ear-piercing sound of shattering glass shattered from within, and Harry stumbled out of the room, pure terror in his eyes. He didn't even take notice of Juliet's presence, but instead turned and hightailed it down the corridor. She watched him go, her dark eyes wide with surprise.

After a moment, she entered the office with trepidation. Severus was bent down a few feet to the left of the door, magically disposing of the evidence of his outrage (Juliet supposed that he had thrown a bottle of some potion or another at Harry). She stood quietly off to the side, simply observing him.

Severus' breathing was still heavy and ragged, and his long hair fell in front of his eyes, shielding them from her view. Juliet didn't like not being able to read his expression, but pursed her lips and remained silent. She knew not to speak until he had sufficiently calmed down; it was always the best thing to do with her father. He'd speak when he was ready.

She wasn't disappointed. "He's seen it. He's seen...the day that I lost her."

Juliet knew immediately what he was referring to—Lily. He was speaking of his fifth year, when two of the boys that had bullied him (Juliet knew they were called James and Sirius, but she couldn't remember her father ever mentioning their surnames) had provoked and humiliated him to such an extent that he had called Lily, his very best friend, a Mudblood.

She knew all of this, but said nothing on the matter. There was no point in discussing something so long past.

Severus, finally seeming to notice his daughter's unusual demeanor, suddenly straightened and eyed her with a mixture of suspicion and what she could only assume was fatherly concern. Juliet tried to avoid looking directly into his eyes, but she knew it was an exercise in futility. He had already seen all he needed to see.

"You haven't been to visit me very much lately, Juliet," he said carefully. "I had assumed that, after the High Inquisitor became our Headmistress, you would be down to see me more often." Juliet nodded, but offered no verbal answer. She had heard the unspoken question in her father's words—loud and clear—and did not dare to attempt to answer it.

Severus knew her well enough not to press the issue. "Whatever happened to upset you, Juliet, I know that you're strong enough to pull through it."

Juliet was silent, suddenly overcome with the childish urge to break down into tears. She swallowed them stubbornly, though; she'd cried far too much in the past few days. She didn't need to worry her father more than she already had. After a while, she got up to leave, and Severus, watching her go, did something that was a great rarity for him.

"I love you, Juliet."

She paused in the doorway, not turning to look at him, but quietly pondering the profundity of his statement. Severus, even with his daughter, the most important person in the world to him, almost never initiated declarations of affection. She choked back another wave of tears.

"Yeah...you too, Dad."

**(A/N: This might not have been the most exciting chapter, but it was necessary. The next one SHOULD be out tonight [fingers cross], and the key comes back into play. I have a task for anyone who's interested [after you review, of course :D]. While writing this, I thought of an idea for a companion one-shot: the little moment between Ron and Juliet in the common room, after Hermione tells the boys that she's been crying, from Ron's POV. If anyone wants to write that, I'd love to read it. All right, off I go to finish writing the next chapter. Here's some excerpts: **

"**Harry stood in the middle of the two, looking back and forth between Ron and Juliet as though watching a tennis match. 'All right, I've had enough of this, and so has Hermione. One of you needs to tell me what happened between you two so that we can fix it.'"**

"**No answer came to her, and as the irritation built, growing higher and higher within her like a tidal wave, she had to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming in frustration." **

**See you soon!)**

**Loves, **

**ChasedByTheShadows**


	18. Pandora's Box

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 18: Pandora's Box**

**(A/N: I'm sleepy now, but I love you guys. Leave a review and let me know what you thought of the chapter, and also if you'd like to respond to the one-shot idea I mentioned at the end of the last chapter. Enjoy!)**

Weeks passed, and the combined melancholy of Umbridge's iron grip on the school and general Ministry oppression had been cast over the students and staff of Hogwarts like a thick, suffocating blanket. Juliet still hadn't returned to her normal self, either—she avoided Ron (and, by extension, her other friends) in the corridors, at meals, and in the common room, and had taken to long spells of silence, where she neither wanted nor acknowledged the company of anyone.

One day, as the Juliet and Hermione sat in the library together, the latter had descended once more into the struggle of another fruitless attempt to pull Juliet back to reality.

"Juliet," she said exasperatedly, "I know you're not going to tell me what's bothering you, but you should at least do something to take your mind off of it."

This statement, simple as it seemed, struck a chord with Juliet, and it was the first to do so in quite a while. Visions of the key suddenly flashed through her mind, and she realized that he had all but forgotten about it. She thanked Hermione, the adrenaline rush she felt at finally finding something to concentrate on coursing through her like electricity. She raced out of the library and all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, leaving a very confused friend in her wake. She barely paused to pant the password at the Fat Lady before jogging up the stairs two at a time and running over to her trunk.

She pulled the key from under a loose flap of fabric in the trunks lining, where she had been storing it. Resolved to jog the memory that had nagged at her when she first found the thing, she pulled the curtains around her bed and sat, turning the key over and over in her fingers.

For hours she stayed in the same place, silently, grimly acknowledging that her enthusiasm would have seemed disproportionate to any onlooker. She repeated the date on the note over and over in her mind, hoping the repetition would help in her yearning for recollection. Even with all her effort, though, no answer came to her, and as the irritation built, growing higher and higher within her like a tidal wave, she had to bite down on her lip to keep from screaming in frustration.

Eventually, she heard someone enter the dormitory, and the lack of shrill giggling and girlish chatter let her know that it was Hermione.

"Juliet?" she called from outside the curtains. "Are you awake?" Juliet sighed and tried desperately to cling to the renewed sense of ebullience she had felt just moments ago. At the sound of Hermione's voice, there to call her back to reality, the aching sadness threatened to return full force, and she wasn't sure how much longer she could withstand. Even the daughter of Severus Snape could only bend so far before something snapped.

Inevitably, the momentary excitement did ebb away—in record time, she thought—and Juliet was forced to pull back her bed curtains, stowing the key inside the pocket of her robes, and face what awaited her.

Hermione looked concerned, but she was seemingly relieved that she hadn't found Juliet crying. "I just came to tell you that Harry wants to see you in the common room."

Juliet glanced away, choosing to train her eyes instead on her still-open trunk. "Could you tell him to wait until morning? Please, Hermione, I—"

"Actually, Juliet, Harry and I both anticipated that you would say something like that. He's insisting that it's important." Juliet regarded Hermione suspicious for a few moments. It seemed likely that this was some thinly veiled ploy to lure her and Ron into the same room, to try and force them to 'work things out,' or some other such nonsense.

Finally, though, she conceded, deciding to take her chances. She spared one last wary look at Hermione, and then made her way downstairs and into the common room. To her surprise and immense relief, Ron was nowhere in sight. Harry sat alone in one of their usual armchairs, staring into the roaring fire. It seemed that Hermione had been telling the truth, after all.

"Harry?" she said quietly, not wanting to startle him. He glanced up, meeting her impassive gaze. "Hermione said you wanted to talk to me."

"Yeah, I did. Do you want to sit down?" Juliet shrugged noncommittally, but took a seat across from him nonetheless. Clearing his throat uncomfortably, Harry continued, "I just wanted to tell you that I...well, a while ago, at one of my Occlumency lessons with your father, I looked into one of his memories in the Pensieve..." Harry trailed off guiltily, breaking eye contact with Juliet. Though she remained expressionless, the latter decided to be merciful.

"I know, Harry. When my dad threw you out of his office, you ran right past me." She paused, and it seemed as though she wanted to smile, but couldn't. "You were so panicked that you didn't even notice I was there. My dad told me what memory you saw."

Harry ran a hand through his unruly hair, still refusing to look at Juliet. "Yeah, well...I just wanted to say I'm sorry for going through your dad's things."

Juliet, though slightly annoyed that he had forced her to come down to the common room for an apology that wasn't even rightly hers, was still touched by the fact that he had worked up the nerve to speak to her about it at all. Of course it had taken a few weeks, but it was still a king gesture. She reached across the space between them, amiably taking his hand. Any other time she would have grinned, but it seemed as though her facial muscles simply would not comply.

"I forgive you, but I'm not the one you should be apologizing to. You know that, right?"

Harry laughed humorlessly. "Yeah, but this is as good as we're going to get. But I _am_ sorry, Juliet. Not just for snooping around in your dad's memories, but...after what I saw, it seems like some of the judgments I made of him weren't exactly true."

It was the closest to something nice that one of her friends had ever said about Severus, and Juliet couldn't help the gratitude that swelled within her. She dropped Harry's hand in utter surprise. If she'd had the energy, she would have gotten up and hugged him, but she never even got the chance to try.

Without so much as a warning, Ron burst through the portrait hole. His expression was one of excitement, and his mouth was already hanging half open as though he had been preparing to tell Harry something. Not missing a single beat, Juliet jumped up from her chair and turned back towards the girls' dormitory, aiming to sprint up the stairs, where they could not follow her.

Before she could go anywhere, though, Harry caught her arm. It seemed to be a reflexive action, fueled more by his surprise at her sudden movement than any real vindictive desire to keep her there. Ron, noticing who was in their midst, stopped dead, his face falling unattractively into a glare. Juliet shrunk back, her blind fear of his anger returning full force. She refused to meet his eye, instead concentrating on rapidly planning escape routes in her mind.

Harry, oblivious to Juliet's irrational panic, stood in the middle of the two, looking back and forth between his two friends as though watching the most uneventful tennis match in history.

"All right," he said finally, "I've had enough of this, and so has Hermione. One of you needs to tell me what happened between you two so that we can fix it."

Ron, the glare remaining plastered on his face as though it had been permanently etched there, said nothing. He turned and walked towards the boys' dormitory, the very way he walked serving to make Juliet cringe in fear. Harry—stupidly—chased after him.

"Ron! Ron, come back! You're not getting away that easily."

He finally caught up to the other boy at the staircase to the dormitories. Grabbing him by the elbow, he ignored Ron's verbose protests and forcibly pulled him back into the common room. It seemed to be for naught, though.

When they turned around, Juliet was gone.

…

The rising of the sun brought another day, and with it another incident that would remain burned into Juliet's memory for the rest of her life.

They were in the Great Hall, and she was halfheartedly eating breakfast. She had chosen to eat at the Ravenclaw table with Luna, and Neville had joined her. Sitting at the Gryffindor table, especially after Juliet's encounter with Ron the previous night, would not have proven to be a wise decision for anyone involved. It was safer for Juliet to eat her meal away from Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

As they ate, Luna read _The Quibbler_, occasionally turning the magazine upside down and giggling loudly. Neville had tried to read over her shoulder a few times, but eventually gave up, shaking his head in fond exasperation.

It was to be a long weekend, and Severus and Juliet had made plans to return to Spinner's End for a few days. Severus thought that a little while away from the castle would be good for his daughter, and she couldn't agree more—it would be easier to avoid Ron there, at any rate.

Just as she was about to go and retrieve her trunk and meet her father in his office, something whizzed above Juliet's head. She was thoroughly startled, and ducked to avoid it. Suddenly, a deafaning buzzing sound filled the Great Hall, coming from tiny objects that were darting about through the air. They moved with such a speed that, try as they may, no one could quite discern what they were.

Umbridge had risen from her seat, and was flinging her wand around her head as though it were a child's play sword. She looked quite ridiculous, and this was rather pleasing to a great many of the Great Hall's occupants. Despite Umbridge's attempts, though, it seemed that no magic would stop the little flying objects. The buzzing was growing louder and louder, so much so that it was becoming nearly unbearable.

Then, without so much as a warning, two much larger objects flew into the room. It took Juliet a moment to notice that it was, in fact, Fred and George on their brooms. They flew about, jubilant grins on their faces, and pointed their wands at the flying things that had preceded them.

For a long while, there was nothing but explosions. They were magical fireworks, Juliet realized, of every shape and colour, their sparks raining down on the heads of startled teachers and terrified Slytherins.

One of the fireworks morphed into the shape of Umbridge, and it proceeded to chase her about the room, its absurdly large mouth snapping at her heels. It was both an unsettling and joyous sight. The Gryffindors, Ravenclaws, and Hufflepuffs cheered throughout the whole spectacle—even some of the professors, though they tried valiantly to look disapproving, couldn't quite keep the smiles off of their faces.

After what seemed like an eternity, the explosions ceased, but the excitement of the audience did not. They followed Fred and George's broomsticks, flowing through the Entrance Hall and out into the courtyard. The twins, over the roar of their flood of supporters, announced something that Juliet didn't quite catch—it had something to do with "Weasley's Wizard Wheezes" and Diagon Alley. She could only suppose by the joyful screams of the crowd that it was a happy occasion.

She tried to smile with them, and came closer to succeeding than she had in weeks. When Fred and George flew away, she found herself quite wanting to be on the back of one of those broomsticks.

_How nice freedom must be. _

…

When they arrived on Spinner's End (much later in the afternoon than they had originally planned, after the chaos caused by the twins that morning), Severus informed Juliet that he would be going into town to pick up dinner for them, as they had no food in the house. She nodded her assent before trudging slowly up to her bedroom.

As soon as Juliet heard the _crack_ of her father's Disapparation, though, her entire deportment changed. Knowing that she would have only a half hour or so—possibly less—Juliet wasted no time in rushing over to her father's room. He had left the door unlocked (a practice that had become habit when Juliet was younger and plagued by nightmares), and she had no trouble slipping inside.

It was the same as always—dark-coloured, impeccably clean, and sparingly furnished. It felt odd, almost wrong, to be snooping around her father's things, and Juliet usually wouldn't have done it. Her curiosity over the key, though, was overpowering. If nothing else, she had to find out what the date meant.

After twenty minutes of searching proved fruitless, Juliet had almost decided to give up and save her task for another time, when, in the very back corner of the wardrobe, her hand landed on a soft, velvety fabric covering something solid.

Reaching eagerly for it, she pulled out a small, unfamiliar box. It was a tiny thing, lined entirely with black fabric. Hope swelled within her, and Juliet pulled out the key, which had been dangling by a thin chain under her sweater. Sucking in a deep breath, Juliet put the key into the lock.

Nothing. It didn't fit.

Resisting the urge to throw the box on the ground, Juliet settled for a frustrated growl and put the offending item back in the wardrobe. She paused only to make sure she was leaving everything exactly as she had found it, and then stalked back to her own room, her shoulders sagging with the weight of her disappointment.

She began to pace back and forth, reaching into the far corners of her memory to try and discern something_, anything_ about the key. It was an enigma of sorts to her, and she had a feeling that her obsessiveness wouldn't cease until she found the answer. Perhaps Hermione was rubbing off on her more than she thought.

As Juliet walked, back and forth, back and forth, a loose floorboard creaked under her foot. It would have been a source of agitation for anyone else, but Juliet barely noticed. The board had been loose for as long as she could remember.

Suddenly, with the _creak_ of the floor as background noise, a memory hit her, vague though it was.

…

_She was a little girl, and she had just come to live with her daddy. He had told her that Mommy wasn't going to be around, that she wasn't going to hit her anymore, so she already liked living with Daddy. _

_ One night, after he had tucked her into bed and she had drifted off into an uneasy sleep, Juliet was roused by the noise of a floorboard creaking. There was someone in her room, and she was afraid that it was Mommy. Even though Daddy had said she wouldn't, Mommy had come back to hurt her again. _

_ Blearily opening her eyes, Juliet found, not Mommy, but Daddy in her room. He was kneeling down on the ground, fiddling with one of the wooden boards that made up her floor. He appeared to be putting it back into place. _

_ "Daddy?" she asked, frightened. "Daddy, what are you doing?"_

_ "Go back to sleep, Juliet," he answered gently. "I'm fixing the floorboard so you don't get hurt. Go back to sleep." _

_ Smiling, nestled back into her bed. Daddy didn't want her to get hurt. Daddy would protect her. Mommy wasn't going to hurt her anymore, just like he had promised. Daddy was keeping his promise. Just as she was about to close her eyes, Daddy slipped out of the room. Juliet had almsot __drifted back off to sleep when a flash of something caught her eye. Vaguely, she could make out the shape of a key, attached to a thin string and dangling from Daddy's wrist. _

…

Furrowing her brow at the disjointed, long-forgotten memory, Juliet knelt down and placed her fingertips on the floorboard in question. It creaked at even her slightest touch, and suddenly the familiar noise seemed like thunder in her ears. On a hunch, she placed her hands more firmly around the edge of the board, and pried it upward. It acquiesced to her demand with relative ease, and what she saw inside made her breath catch.

There, covered with a thick layer off dust and years-old grime, was a little metal box.

Ignoring its unsanitary coating, Juliet lifted it up and balanced it on the palm of her hand. The box itself was a little heavy, but it didn't feel as though it contained anything of great substance. Slowly, and with a little thrill of fear, she removed the key from around her neck once more and put it into position inside the box. She held her breath as she turned it.

The lock clicked open.

**(A/N: I'm very excited to write chapter twenty (soon!), so I'm trying to get the rest of these out as quickly as possible. Drop me a review (pretty please!) and also let me know if you'd like to write the one-shot that I mentioned in the ending author's note of the previous chapter.)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows **


	19. A Hidden Affair

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 19: A Hidden Affair**

There were letters—dozens of them, some in Severus' nearly illegible scrawl, and others in the fine, swirling handwriting of what appeared to be a woman. Looking farther down to the bottom of one of the pages, Juliet noticed the signature and her stomach flip-flopped. The letters were from Lily Evans.

It seemed that they were the evidence of some correspondence between her father and Harry's mother. Juliet gathered that they detailed a number of meetings which were—she assumed from context clues—conducted in secret. They were jumbled, in no particular order, and most were vague. Juliet wasn't completely certain what they meant, but a sickening suspicion was creeping into her chest, and it was difficult to ignore.

_Lily, _said one,

_If we continue to see one another as we have been, I fear the repercussions not only for ourselves, but for our children. If anyone were to find out, the consequences would be dire. I cannot think of a solution that does not involve losing you entirely, however, and that is not a viable option. Please, do not send your return correspondence by this owl—I have enclosed enough money for you to purchase the use of a public owl. Please, Lily, set my mind at ease. _

_ Love, _

_ Severus_

So it seemed that they had been writing to one another even after Harry and Juliet had been born. Juliet's hands began to tremble as she pulled out one of the letters in Lily's hand. It was equally as unclear as her father's had been:

_Sev _(Juliet had to stare at the nickname for a long moment to make sure she was reading it correctly),

_It has been lovely talking to you again these past few weeks—you've been very helpful. I've almost forgotten why we stopped being friends back at school. We can meet again the Saturday after next, if you are agreeable. Apparate to the usual place at 10 p.m. _

_ Much Love, _

_ Lily _

_ Lily, _

_ If we are to discuss these plans any further, we must meet in person. Do not tell your husband. Christine will no nothing of it either. Destroy this letter when you receive it. _

_ Love, _

_ Severus_

_ Severus,_

_ You are the only reason that I have stayed alive and been able to find some semblance of happiness over these past months. Your wish to cut off our correspondence cuts me deeper than you can possibly imagine. Please, Sev, do not do this to me. If I can't see you any more, I don't think I will be able to make it. _

_ Love, _

_ Lily_

One particular letter from Lily to Severus caught Juliet's eye, and she read it carefully several times over. It was only a few lines in length, but every word felt like a stab to the heart.

_Severus, _

_ The lives of my husband and son are in danger, as I'm sure you well know. As much as it breaks my heart, we must go into hiding. Only one person will know our whereabouts, and I cannot tell you who it is. I long for the day when I will be able to see you again. _

_ Love,  
Lily_

There was a noise downstairs, and Juliet realized with a start that her father had returned home. Engrossed as she had been in the letters, she barely caught on in time. Moving quickly, she put all of the letters back in the box and locked it once more, stowing it in her school trunk and placing the key back under her sweater. She resolved to ask him about the letters, to demand an actual explanation, that night before she went to sleep. She hadn't felt this kind of a sense of purpose in so long—it was invigorating.

As she descended the stairs, two voices floated up to meet her ears. So Severus wasn't alone. The other voice sounded somewhat familiar, and after a moment Juliet recognized it as belonging to Mr. Goyle. She resisted the urge to groan—that man had made a habit out of calling on them at the worst times.

Finally entering the sitting room, Juliet gazed warily at the two men before her. Severus' face was impassive, and his demeanor was cold and unwelcoming. It seemed—rightly-to make Goyle quite nervous. He hastily wiped some sweat from his brow and greeted Juliet.

"Good evening, Miss Snape," he said, fidgeting uselessly with the fastenings of his cloak.

Severus seemed to be in no mood for pleasantries, and even Juliet was startled by the sharpness of his tone. "My daughter is here now, Goyle, as you requested. What is it you came to tell us?"

Goyle nervously back and forth between father and daughter before answering. "I'm here on behalf of the Dark Lord. He sent me—he sent me to address a rather nasty rumor that has been started about your daughter, Severus."

Instantaneously, Juliet's heart jumped into her throat, and she feared that Goyle would be able to hear its frantic beating. She fought to keep her face blank, to reveal none of her terror through her eyes, though it was easier said than done. This was it; this was the moment she'd been living in fear of ever since her idiotic actions in the graveyard. She had been found out, and now Goyle had been sent to kill her. She realized sickeningly that this would be the end of her father as well.

Severus, despite Juliet's internal panic, remained calm. "And what rumor might that be?" His tone was cold and clipped, and Goyle began to sweat even more earnestly than before.

"People are saying," he began slowly, looking to Juliet as though searching for answers, "that Miss Juliet here is not as faithful to our Dark Lord as she would like to have him believe." He paused a moment, then added, "You understand, Severus, that if these accusations are found true, the Dark Lord will assume the same about you.

Her worst fears confirmed, it became ever harder for Juliet to remain calm. She would have liked nothing more than to run from the room and vomit up the measly contents of her stomach, but she forced herself to remain rooted to the spot. Glancing expressionlessly at Juliet, Severus spoke once more.

"I am sure that the Dark Lord, powerful and all-knowing as he is, would not be so naïve as to believe these vicious, moronic ramblings. My daughter is fifteen—witches twice her age do not possess the powers of Occlumency that would be required to hide their mind from the Dark Lord. It is ludicrous to even think. May I ask," he added, after a pause, "who began this rumor?"

Still staring fearfully at Severus, who loomed several inches over him, Goyle let his hands fall to his side. "Lucius Malfoy."

Juliet had to resist the urge to slap herself—it all made sense. Of course Lucius would want to do something to tarnish her reputation. She'd cheated on and broken up with his son, after all. Summoning all of her acting abilities, she let out a cold, short laugh, and was pleased with how convincing it sounded. Severus and Goyle both snapped their heads to her in surprise.

"Lucius Malfoy is bitter," she said, allowing a smirk to drift across her lips. "I ended my relationship with his son a few weeks ago. It doesn't surprise me that he would be so petty as to start rumors about me." Goyle opened his mouth to respond, but Severus cut him off.

"My daughter is right, Goyle. Lucius and his family are nothing if not gossips, and these rumors are surely the byproduct of Draco's hurt feelings."

"Of course," Goyle responded, some of his trepidation seemingly dissipating, "but it does not help her case that your daughter is known to spend a great deal of time with Harry Potter and his friends."

Severus smirked effortlessly, even as the turmoil inside Juliet increased tenfold. "Surely the Dark Lord does not wish to punish my daughter because she has such a passion for his cause that she is trying to get as close to the enemy as possible. Juliet is gathering multitudes of valuable information on Potter, and I certainly hope that you will relay this information back to our Lord and Master."

Goyle regarded them for a moment longer, the tiny sitting room filled with a deafening silence. It was so still and tense that even Felix, the old cat, did not dare to pad into the room. Juliet kept her eyes locked on Goyle, hoping beyond hope that she looked defiant and insulted, as she should have been. Their guest looked between the two once more, before finally casting his eyes to the ground.

"I shall," he said. "My apologies for interrupting your evening."

When he was gone, Juliet allowed her facade to falter. Her face crumpled into fear, and she looked at her father as she struggled not to cry. His expression remained stony, and it seemed to Juliet that he was trying not to shake with anger. For a fleeting moment, she feared that it was directed at her, but decided this was irrational. She had done nothing wrong.

"Dad," she asked finally, hiccuping, "are you okay? I—I suppose you're going to make me stay away from my friends." She thought bitterly that it wouldn't make much of a difference anyway, but quickly pushed that to the back of her mind. She had more troubling things to worry about.

"No. Doing so would make you look even more suspicious. But Juliet," he added, pausing and leaning over to take her by the shoulders, their identical eyes meeting, "I need you to be even more careful about the things you say. Speak of this to no one, do you understand? The slightest slip of the tongue could cost both of us more dearly than I'd like to think about."

Tearfully, Juliet nodded and followed her father into the dining room for their supper. It seemed that she would not be able to ask him about the box of letters that night. They'd both had enough surprises for quite a while.

**(A/N: My favorite chapter is coming up next! I'm so excited! If you're interested in writing a one-shot idea that I had for this fic, check out the ending author's note of chapter 17. I'll try to get chapter 20 out tonight. Review!)**

**Loves, **

**ChasedByTheShadows **


	20. A Flame Rekindled

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 20: A Flame Rekindled**

**(A/N: My favorite chapter! I'm excited for you guys to read it. Enjoy and review!)**

The end of the weekend came, and Juliet still had not asked her father about the box. Every day, she resolved to do so, but always found some excuse to keep it to herself. Finally, though, once they had returned to the castle, she decided that it was time. She made her way down to Severus' office with air about her that suggested she was going to a detention, rather than to a simple conversation with her father.

She hadn't quite been able to shake the feeling of dread that had been plaguing her since the night she found the box, and it followed her as she walked, settling around her person like something tangible. Finally, pausing in front of the door, she worked up her nerve and knocked three times.

"Enter." His reply was short and clipped, as was the usual when he spoke to his students. Juliet knew that when he saw that it was her calling on him, his eyes would soften and he would speak as her father, but she almost wished he would be angry at her. Perhaps it would make things easier. Steeling herself, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Severus sat behind his desk, hunched over several long lengths of parchment—essays to be graded, she presumed. The office was dimly lit, as always, and the smell of half-brewed potions permeated the dungeon air. Juliet, wanting to get the conversation over with as soon as possible, didn't give her father enough time to ask what she was doing there, but immediately pulled the key out from under her blouse.

"I stole this key from your desk," she said bluntly, and she saw the surprise flash in his eyes. "I know what it goes to, and I've seen what's inside."

Severus' face went blank, betraying nothing—no shock, no anger, nothing—and the Juliet's notion of dread grew stronger. She could discern nothing from his eyes, and this in and of itself was a shock to her. For one of the first times in her life, she didn't know what her father was feeling.

"Dad, please tell me what the letters mean."

He let out a breath, the first outward sign that he had heard her at all. Finally, he spoke.

"Sit down, Juliet." She did so, both wanting him to go on and wishing he would refuse. "What I am about to tell you—no one alive knows of it. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

Any lesser man would have crumbled under her intense gaze, and probably would have stood up and begun pacing the room. Severus, though, remained in his chair, almost completely motionless. "You and Potter were only a few months old at the time, and Lily and her husband were fighting. It was nearly constant, she told me, and she had no place to turn other than to drinking. Eventually, she wrote to me, under the guise of asking her one-time best friend for advice. It was the first time we had spoken since we were fifteen years old."

Juliet sucked in a breath, wondering exactly what he meant by "guise." She never got the chance to ask, though, because Severus, with a far-away look in his eyes as though he had forgotten he had an audience, continued his tale.

"We agreed to meet and, at first, it was really just so that I could help her through her alcoholism. I can't explain how wonderful it was to spend time with her again. It felt like I was complete when I was with her—a feeling I never got from my wife.

"Time went on, though, and things progressed too far. I won't hide the details from you—we began sleeping with each other, though we were both still married. I won't say that I regret it, but I did feel some guilt, even as much as I hated James Potter...and Christine.

Tears were running down Juliet's face, and she could do nothing to stop them. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. It couldn't be true. Severus, almost entirely oblivious to her presence by that point, went on as if compelled to by some higher force.

"It continued until Lily and James were killed. I knew the whole time that her husband was the man she was truly in love with, that I couldn't compete with perfect James Potter, but I would take whatever illusion of love I could get from her."

A foreign feeling began to spread through Juliet's body, and soon she discerned it to be shame—but not for herself. With a nauseating twist of her stomach she realized that for the first time in her life, she was ashamed of her father, of her hero. Even when she had discovered his secret double life, she hadn't felt this way about him. It made her sick.

Tears still rolling down her face, she stood and looked him dead in the eye. "All my life, I've never had to feel this way about you, Dad, but right now...you disgust me." She narrowed her eyes, a thought occurring to her. "And are you really so naïve to think that your _wife_ didn't know, or have suspicions? Maybe it was you who made Christine the way she was."

Before Severus could respond, Juliet threw the key down onto his desk and bolted from the room. Sobs racked her throat, but she did what she could to hold them back. She didn't stop running for a long time, but finally came to a quiet corner of the castle. She sank down onto the stone, leaning her head against the cold wall and gasped for air.

She sat there for what felt like ages, shaking and crying. With all her might, she tried to think of an explanation. Something—anything—to make things right.

_Why would he do this to us? To our family? To me?_

Try as she may, nothing came to her. It was a crippling realization, knowing that there was no excuse that she could make for her father this time. He had done something truly and utterly horrendous, something so fundamentally _wrong_, and it was difficult for her to wrap her mind around. She wasn't used to this.

Suddenly, someone sat down beside her, and Juliet nearly jumped ten feet into the air. She hadn't heard footsteps approaching, and for a moment she feared it was Severus. When she looked up, the sight that greeted her was much worse.

She was face-to-face with Ron, and the sight of him only brought on a fresh wave of tears as she was reminded that she didn't even have her best friend to lean on in her time of need. No, that wasn't right, and she wasn't going to have it.

Letting all coherent thought fly from her mind, she decided, for once, to do what felt natural. Burying her head in his chest, she began to sob, not caring who happened to see or hear her. Ron allowed the contact, wrapping an arm around her and using his free hand to stroke her hair. She leaned into him, relishing their closeness. She hadn't realized how much she would miss it until it was gone.

When she finally calmed down, after several long, agonizing moments, she managed to sit up and wipe her eyes. She hiccuped, refusing to meet Ron's eye. Apparently, this was not satisfactory for Ron, because he grabbed her chin and gently forced her to look him in the face. She longed to flinch away, not wanting him to see her in such a state, but she fought to remain still.

He said nothing—he was waiting for her to be ready to talk. Silently grateful, Juliet allowed her breathing to return to normal before she began to speak. Then, just like they used to, she let it all spill out. She told him everything she had found out about her father, starting with the key and leading up to his explanation of the letters. Ron's face remained blank, though she could see the struggle to make a connection in his eyes.

"I'm not sure I quite understand," he said a minute later, still gazing directly at her. "Why is this so devastating to you? I mean, you have the right to be angry, sure, but you just seem..."

The word 'broken' came to Juliet's mind, but she chose not to supply it. She regarded Ron for a moment, an old sort of terror filling her eyes. Was she ready to offer up that particular explanation, even to him? It had been inside her, dormant and silent for so many years, and she wasn't sure she was ready to let that go.

But as Ron looked at her, as concerned and supportive as he had always been, she knew that it was time. Taking a few deep, shaking breaths, she began.

"My mother was a Muggle, and an alocoholic. She wasn't always, and I always assumed that she had become one when she found out that my father and I were magical, but now I think that it might have been something else entirely." Her eyes flashed darkly, but she forced herself to continue. "When she started drinking, she got angry, and she took her anger out on me."

Juliet quieted as she allowed Ron time to take this in. At first, he merely seemed confused, but then his features slowly morphed into an expression of utter disgust. When it became clear that he wasn't going to say anything, Juliet went on.

"She beat me almost every night, and she's the one who gave me that scar on my arm. When I was five, she almost killed me, but my father had placed some sort of Charm on me so that he would know if I was in danger. He saved my life, and he took me away from my mother, promising me that he wasn't going to let her hurt me anymore."

"So that's when you went to live with your dad?" Ron muttered through gritted teeth.

Juliet nodded, wiping away a few stray tears. "He modified my mother's memory so that she would forget about me, but that didn't stop the nightmares. For years, I would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, always afraid that my mother was going to come and kill both of us. I still remember what she said the last time I saw her: 'I'll kill you Severus. I'll kill Juliet, too. I'll kill everyone you _know_. That damn bitch over there deserves it. All of you magical freaks deserve it. You're not natural. You shouldn't be alive...'"

As she spoke, Juliet had begun trembling violently, and Ron, his eyes widening, pulled her into his arms. Her body shook, but she choked back her tears and forced herself to go on, leaning into his embrace for support.

"That was the last time I saw my mother. Even though I was afraid she would, she never found me. My dad made sure that I wouldn't ever have to see her again. The only thing he missed was one baby picture of me, and it drove my mother insane. When I was nine she killed herself."

Ron continued to hold Juliet as she cried, and she could tell without looking that his mind was racing with all of the new information; she could practically hear the gears whirring in his head. For a long while, they just sat there, and Juliet thought she would be content if she never had to move again. She had just spilled her soul to this boy, and it didn't feel wrong, as she had expected it to. It felt blissfully, unequivocally freeing, and it served as a thorough shock to the normal reserved girl.

"Do you get it now, Ron?" she finally asked between whimpers. "Do you understand why I love my father so much, why I'm so quick to defend him? He saved my _life_? I wouldn't have lived past the age of five if it weren't for him. I never would have met you..." The last part had been meant to stay in Juliet's head, and she was surprised that she let it slip out, but not entirely displeased. The sentiment did not escape Ron's notice.

"Yeah, I get it Jules," he replied, giving her a small smile. She returned it, musing that her nickname had never sounded better. Neither of them bothered to mention (at least out loud) that Juliet's heroic perception of her father had been tarnished—possibly shattered—in the last few hours.

"Ron, can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"What I said before...it was true. Even if you're still angry at me, I hope you know that. You _are_ my best friend...you may be the best friend I've ever had."

He didn't immediately respond, and Juliet feared that she had chosen the wrong time to remind him of their fight. Her worried dissipated when a grin began to form at his lips, though. "I'm sorry for being such a git, Juliet."

Laughing through her tears, and feeling more relieved than she could remember feeling in a long time, Juliet replied, "I understand...Hey, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"Remember how, after I broke up with Draco, I said I wasn't ready to start seeing anyone else?"

Ron smiled wryly. "Vaguely."

Juliet returned the smile and lowered her voice to a whisper. "I...I think I'm ready now."

Ron froze, but this time Juliet wasn't afraid she'd said the wrong thing. She'd never been so sure of something in her life. Ron met her gaze, and they leaned in simultaneously. When his lips touched hers, gently at first but gradually growing hungrier, she felt no shame.

The only word to describe this was happiness—no other would do.

**(A/N: Aw man, I love writing sappy fluff. This is the last we'll see of this kind of stuff for a while, though, because the last five chapters are chock full of action. Wow, only five chapters left! I'm working on the next one right now, but its up to you guys whether or not I upload it tonight. Let me know in a review (in which you should also tell me what you thought of the chapter :D).)**

**Lots of Love,**

**ChasedByTheShadows **


	21. A Night Full of Shadows

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 21: A Night Full of Shadows**

**(A/N: I honestly have no idea why I'm updating this so often. I guess I'm just inspired this week! Better hold onto it while I can! Enjoy and review!)**

It seemed that, despite all of the problems she was facing, Juliet was far happier than she had been in weeks, if not all year. It was amazing what beginning a new relationship could do to the mood of a fifteen-year-old girl. Sometimes, when she was with Ron, she could even forget about her anger at her father for a few precious moments.

They had chosen not to tell Harry and Hermione about their new...situation—at least not right away. They had settled for saying that had worked out their argument, and privately decided that they'd have to figure out the right way to break the news. Ron and Juliet being a couple was sure to change the dynamics of the way the four of them functioned as friends, and neither of them wanted to jeopardize that until they could gauge precisely how the other two would react.

They had performed little "tests," just to try and glean some idea of what awaited them. Ron sat a little closer to Juliet than normal, and she didn't bother to hide her blush when their legs or hands brushed. It was almost fun for the two of them, keeping it a secret, but Juliet knew it couldn't stay that way for long. If their friends found out some other way, they'd be furious.

Before any of them could blink, O.W.L. Exams were upon them, and Ron and Juliet still hadn't told Harry and Hermione the truth. On the first day of testing, as the four of them were eating breakfast, Juliet kept shooting furtive glancing at the redhead from across the table.

"Ron," she asked as the meal was nearing its end, "can you stay behind a minute? I need to talk to you." She looked pointedly at Harry and Hermione, who eyed both Ron and Juliet with suspicion. She began to fear that they would refuse to leave, but after a moment they rose from their chairs and stalked out of the Great Hall, clearly annoyed.

"Ron," she said after they had disappeared, turning back to her boyfriend, "we can't keep putting this off. We have to tell them."

"Juliet," Ron groaned, letting his fork fall to his plate with a _clang_, "it's too soon. They're going to lose their minds on us."

"It'll always be too soon, Ron," she shot back. "That's the way these things work. But we have to get it out there—get it over with. Think of how angry they'll be if someone else sees us together and tells them, and they realize we've been lying to them. It's best if it comes from us."

"All right, all right," said Ron, sighing. "When you propose we do this, then?"

"Tonight," replied Juliet firmly. "After the exams."

Ron gave no response but another groan, and Juliet smiled, resisting the nearly overpowering urge to reach across the table and take his hand.

…

The exams weren't nearly as excruciating as Juliet had built them up to be in her mind (though she had, of course, been under the influence of Hermione Granger). Charms and Potions were scheduled for that day, and Juliet couldn't be more pleased. They were her two favorite (and best) subjects, so at least the testing would be off to a good start.

She performed well for the old wizards who had been brought in to test them, and they offered their praise. As she climbed the many flights of stairs to Gryffindor Tower, Juliet reflected that, though she'd certainly made slip-ups, the whole ordeal had gone relatively smoothly, considering.

After offering the password to the Fat Lady, Juliet crawled through the portrait hole to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione huddled together in their usual corner. By the jovial, carefree looks on their friends' faces, Juliet was able to discern that Ron had not told them. She knew it should be something they did together, but she almost wished he had let it out, just so she wouldn't have to be there right at the moment of truth.

She went over and sat with them, returning their greetings a bit halfheartedly. Now that they were here, she was second guessing her decision from that morning, wondering if it really _was_ the right time. Then she remembered what she had said to Ron—there would be no distinguishable 'right' moment; they just had to say it and hope for the best.

After a few moments of idle chatter, Hermione announced that she wanted to go to the library to get in some last minute studying. She stood up and Harry, who wanted to go up to his dormitory and relax, followed suit. Before they could leave, however, Juliet steeled herself and called them back.

"You guys, wait. Ron and I have to tell you something important." Harry and Hermione shared a glance, smirking, but Harry cut her off before she could ask what it was about.

"It's about time, you two," he said, crossing his arms and looking the picture of smugness.

"It certainly is," said Hermione, a bit more sternly. "We already know about your relationship."

Simultaneously, Ron and Juliet's jaws dropped open and they looked to one another, completely in shock. Their eyes were as wide as saucers, and both seemed to have no idea what to say.

"But...how?" Juliet finally choked out.

"Oh, please," said Hermione, allowing the tiniest of grins to play at the corners of her mouth, "it's not like the two of you were particularly effective at covering it up. We've both seen the way you've been looking at each other, the way you've been acting, since you, how did you put it—'worked out your argument?' It wasn't too difficult to figure out."

Still dumbstruck, Juliet and Ron continued to stare open-mouthed at their clever friend, not quite believing her. Rolling her eyes at their shock, Hermione placed her hands defiantly on her hips.

"Really," she reprimanded, "you shouldn't have kept it from us for so long."

"Though we understand why you did," Harry chimed in. Hermione grumbled a grudging acknowledgment of this, but Juliet could tell that there was some residual irritation. Hermione didn't like being kept in the dark about anything.

"Anyway, we're happy for you two," said Harry, and Hermione's response to this was much more genuine. She offered a small smile, and Juliet returned it, trying to convey all of her gratitude to her friend through the gesture. Hermione, seemingly understanding, simply said that she really had to get to the library and left the common room. Harry was gone soon after, going up to bed.

Soon Ron and Juliet were the only two in the common room, and they took full advantage of their solitude. Their kisses were light and carefree, punctuated with laughter and amiable chatter. That was Juliet's favorite thing about her new relationship with Ron. Though they were together romantically, he was still her best friend. Nothing had changed, except now she could kiss him whenever she wanted, and now he knew nearly everything about her.

_Except that you're a Death Eater_.

The voice in her head had come unexpectedly, and it took Juliet by surprise. She wasn't a true Death Eater, she rationalized, letting the happy feelings come back and take over her mind. She was a double agent—Harry and their other friends, not to mention Dumbledore and the Order, was where her true loyalty was. She had told Hermione—her confidant for all things related to her predicament with He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named—about Goyle's most recent visit to Spinner's End one night when they were alone in the library, but the other girl had told her there was no reason to panic. There would be no sense in telling Ron about any of that, she reasoned.

Concentrating instead on the immense relief that Harry and Hermione's blessing had brought, Juliet allowed a smile to drift across her face. She leaned in for another kiss, and Ron responded eagerly, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her body flush against his. She threaded her fingers through his shock of orange hair, enjoying the way it felt on the skin of her hands.

When they broke apart for air, their faces flushed and their breathing ragged, Juliet leaned down, laying her head comfortably on his chest. Ron wrapped an arm protectively around her back, resting his chin on her hair.

"This is nice," he said, voicing both of their thoughts, "not having to sneak around anymore."

"Yeah it is," she said, deciding to tease him. "I told you it was a good idea to tell them."

Ron laughed, the force of it jostling her a bit. "Please, Juliet, they practically told _us_."

"Yeah," she giggled. "I guess you're right." Just then two first years walked by, one fearfully regaling the other with a tale about how Umbridge had given him detention. He said that he'd heard what happened to people who had detention with her, and he was going to write to his parents for help, though he didn't think it would do much good.

Juliet's eyes narrowed in disgust. "God, that woman really is a piece of work. Scaring first years like that—what an old hag!"

Ron, too, had let anger drift into his eyes. Even his status as a Prefect wouldn't allow him to help the younger students that Umbridge tormented. "I'd like to push her off the Astronomy Tower."

"Ron, that's horrible!" scolded Juliet, though she was unable to keep the smile off of her face. Suddenly, though, she sobered, her lips falling into a frown and her brow furrowing. "With Dumbledore gone, though, it's only a matter of time before the whole school falls apart. I'm surprised the other teachers have managed to keep things together this long."

"It's a miracle, all right," said Ron solemnly, and Juliet knew by his tone that it was the end of the conversation. They sat for about an hour longer, simply enjoying the company of one another, but finally decided that they should get to bed. They wouldn't want to be tired for the second round of exams the following day.

Just as they were crossing the common room to their respective staircases, someone bounded down from the boys' dormitory and nearly barreled directing into Ron. Caught off guard, he barely managed to catch the flying figure and set him straight. Juliet saw with a growing sense of dread that it was Harry, looking just as terrified and panicked as he had the night he'd had the nightmare about Mr. Weasley.

"Harry?" asked Ron incredulously, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder to steady him. "Mate, what's gotten into you?"

"Harry what's wrong?" asked Juliet weakly, reaching out to gently touch his arm. Harry, for his part, appeared to be to frantic to form coherent sentences. Just then, the portrait hole swung open and revealed Hermione, returning from the library. She saw her three friends in the deserted common room and immediately ran over, nearly dropping one of the large books she was carrying. She set them delicately on the ground and proceeded to try and get an answer out of Harry as well.

It was a while before he was calm enough to speak, but when he did, Juliet found herself wishing he had stayed silent.

"I had another dream—another nightmare. It was about Sirius this time. Voldemort has him," said Harry, ignoring the way they all flinched at the name. "We have to do something."

"Harry," replied Hermione, her eyes wide, "you can't keep letting this happen. Dumbledore wanted you to take Occlumency for a reason! He didn't want You-Know-Who to be able to reach into your mind anymore. This could be a trick—he could be trying to play at your weaknesses, lure you somewhere!"

Harry wouldn't listen, though. "I can't take that chance, Hermione! If Voldemort—stop that, all of you!—really has Sirius and I ignore it, it'll be _my_ fault! Would you want that burden?" When Hermione could supply no answer, Harry merely glowered and went on. "We have to at least check and see if he's all right. There's got to be some way of getting in touch with him through the Floo Network."

"There isn't," Hermione said desperately. "Umbridge has all of the fireplaces in the school being monitored by the Ministry. If you try to use one to contact Sirius, she'll know."

"Not all of them," said Ron suddenly, making all of their heads snap towards him.

"What?" Hermione asked harshly.

"Not all of the fireplaces are being monitored," he amended. "I'd bet the Sorting Hat that the one in Umbridge's office isn't. She's got to be using it for her own personal businesses."

Before anyone could respond, someone else emerged from the staircase leading to the girls' dormitories. It was Ginny, clad in her pajamas and looking rather confused.

"Ginny, what are you doing here?" asked Hermione, eyes widening.

"I was trying to sleep and I heard a commotion down here, so I came to see what it was." She looked at Ron, who had moved and put his hand lightly on the small of Juliet's back and she raised her eyebrows, but said nothing.

"Go back to sleep, Ginny," he said. "Everything's fine."

Ginny merely scowled. "No. One of you tell me what's going on, _now_." Harry was the one to concede to this demand. Either he was afraid of the youngest Weasley's wrath, or he was desperate to have an ally in his argument. Both were equally plausible.

"I had another one of those dreams, like the one I had about your dad. This time it could be Sirius in trouble, and we've got to break into Umbridge's office so that I can Floo him."

If Ginny was shocked by any of this, she hid it well. She looked at Ron defiantly and puffed her chest out as though preparing for a fight. "I'm in. I want to help."

Ron opened his mouth as though about to protest, but Juliet took his hand quickly, squeezing it. He understood the silent message and grudgingly quieted, but she heard him grumble a few choice words under his breath. She entwined her fingers with his, trying to coax a smile onto his face, and the corners of his lips twitched. It was enough, and she found herself oddly self-satisfied by the effect she had on him, just with a touch.

Much to the chagrin of Hermione, they all began to make their way towards the portrait hole, but just before they could leave, someone else descended the stairs. Juliet resisted the urge to groan, wondering just how many more interruptions there could be. Turning around, she was met with the sight of Neville, and she could see her worries mirrored in the faces of all the others—surely he would try to stop them.

"Neville, we can explain—" Hermione began, but Neville held up a hand, effectively surprising her into silence. Ron snickered, trying to cover it up with a cough.

"Don't bother," Neville replied. "I've been standing on that staircase for a while, and I overheard everything Harry said to Ginny. I want to help too." They all stared at him for a moment, awestruck, but a smile eventually crept onto Harry's face. He turned back toward the portrait hole, and Juliet realized that he knew full well that all five of the people in the room would follow him.

"Wait," Hermione said just before they reached it. She pulled out her wand, muttering an incantation and waving it over each of them in turn. A unpleasantly cold feeling washed over Juliet, spreading from the tips of her fingers all the way to her toes, and she realized that Hermione was casting Disillusionment Charms over all of them.

The charm, though incredibly useful, wasn't foolproof, so they would still have to be careful to avoid Filch, Mrs. Norris, and any professors that might be patrolling the corridors. Hermione warned them of this, and they all nodded their assent before exiting the common room and stepping anxiously out into the corridor. The Fat Lady called after them as they hurried away, though she was unable to see who had opened her painting.

Juliet kept close to Ron, fighting the urge to giggle at the odd sensation of their invisible hands being entwined. It was like holding hands with a ghost, she surmised. They crept their way through the corridors, thankful every time they turned a corner and Peeves _wasn't_ there. At last, and without incident, they made it to Umbridge's office.

Harry and Hermione went inside alone, as they had decided that it would be too dangerous for them all to go into the office. Juliet remained outside the door with Ron, Neville, and Ginny, standing guard. She glanced down, noticing that her Disillusionment Charm was wearing off—her body was slowly reappearing. She didn't know how to cast one herself, though, so would have to wait for Hermione to return and do it for her.

After several moments of utter silence, Juliet's ears picked up the noise of footsteps, so soft that she was almost unsure whether she had imagined it, coming from an adjoining corridor. She began to move toward it, but Ron caught her arm.

"Juliet," he whispered, quieter than breathing, "where are you going?"

"I heard something over there," she replied to his still-invisible form, just as lowly. "I need to go see what it is."

"Don't, Juliet. I'm sure it was nothing." She smiled softly at the worry in his voice and reached up to squeeze the hand that still held her arm.

"Ron, don't worry. I'll be all right."

It took a moment, but eventually his grip slackened and Juliet was able to gently remove her arm from his grasp and move towards the corridor. Now fully visible, she peered into it, but found nothing. Relief washing through her at the sight of its barrenness, she turned around and took a step to rejoin the others.

She barely felt the hand cover her mouth before everything went black.

**(A/N: All right, this is the last chapter for tonight. There are only four left now, and then it's on to Sweet Juliet: Part 3! And Juliet's sixth year...well, it's interesting, I'll say that. You'll understand more when you read the rest of this story. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll post more tomorrow. Please leave a review if you can! I love opening my email to find good, long reviews :D)**

**Loves,**

**ChasedByTheShadows **


	22. A Secret Revealed

**Sweet Juliet: Part 2**

**Chapter 22: A Secret Revealed**

**(A/N: In an effort to postpone the end of this edition of my Sweet Juliet series (which, really, what was I thinking with that title? It sucks :D), I'm going to be uploading the final four chapters in three day increments. So, expect the next one on Wednesday. Enjoy and review!)**

When Juliet awoke, her whole body hurt. It was as though every muscle had been paralyzed, rendered completely useless, save for the task of causing her pain. It took all of her effort to pry her eyes open, and when she did, she was met with a terrifying sight: she was outside, lying on a patch of grass in a completely unfamiliar location. That wasn't what frightened her, though—it was the very, very steep cliff just a few feet away from her.

Panic surging through her like electricity, Juliet tried to get up, but found that she was unable to move. The only parts of her body that still appeared to have any semblance of motor function were her eyes, and they darted about rapidly, trying to latch onto something other that the suffocating darkness and the looming precipice.

Footsteps approached, and Juliet wished dearly that she could scream. Maybe someone would hear her and some kind soul would take pity on her—even if they were only Muggles. She'd take what she could get at that moment. The person walking towards her emerged from the shadows, and recognition hit Juliet as though she had been shocked.

It was Goyle, though he certainly didn't look like his usual timid self (or at least what Severus' presence frightened him into). Rather, he walked with a sense of purpose, stalking towards Juliet with his wand raised, a disgusted sneer marring his already unattractive features. Fear coursed through Juliet at his menacing stance, as she realized that he must have known something to have brought her to such a place.

She wanted to flinch away when he pointed his wand at her, but she could do nothing except stare up at him, wide-eyed and try to look as innocent as possible. He waved his wand, muttering something, but no pain or darkness came—instead, Juliet found that she could move again. Goyle had lifted what she then recognized as a Partial-Body Bind.

Before she could make any move to get up on her own, Goyle darted forward and dragged Juliet to her feet by the collar of her robes. He held her there, ensuring that she wouldn't be able to escape. Mind racing, Juliet tried to figure out just what she would do if Goyle decided to attack her. She was, it seemed, wandless, and stood little chance of using physical means to defend herself against such a large man.

Perhaps feigning ignorance would be the best course of action. Summoning her features into an expression of indignation, Juliet tried vainly to push Goyle away. "Just what do you think you're doing, Mr. Goyle?"

"Silence," he growled, bringing her face closer to his, until their noses were a mere few inches apart. "You and that sniveling father of yours didn't have me fooled for a second. As clever as the two of you think you are, you weren't observant enough to realize that I was following you around Hogwarts and waiting for you to slip-up, to say something so I could _prove_ that the both of you are traitors."

"Oh? And did I make this alleged slip-up, then?" Juliet mocked, trying with all her might to keep up the act.

"Don't play dumb with me girl," spat Goyle, gripping the fabric of her robes so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "I overheard you tell your little Mudblood friend everything about that night I called on you, and that was enough proof for me." Juliet paled. So he'd been there in the library when she had been talking to Hermione.

She forced herself to respond, some of her genuine panic creeping into her tone. "It's not what it looks like! Just let me explain—"

Goyle wasn't listening, though. He continued to rant, a deranged smirk drifting across his lips. "Imagine how grateful the Dark Lord will be when I hand over two traitors to him in one night! Imagine the reward!" He was laughing like a madman, and it petrified Juliet enough for her drop all pretense.

"My friends will have noticed I'm gone by now, and they'll be looking for me!" she threatened, trying to sound braver than she felt.

Goyle only smirked, and the made bile rise in Juliet's throat. "I wouldn't count on it, girl. Your filthy little friends have already been captured by the Senior Undersecretary and her Slytherin minions. Not part of _my_ plan, but it's wonderful how things work out in your favor sometimes, eh?"

Suddenly releasing her, Goyle pushed Juliet into a nearby tree, disorienting her for a moment. She struggled to regain her balance, even as her vision swam before her, but Goyle was too quick. With a wave of his wand and a muttered incantation, he conjured several large, heavy ropes. They slammed her back into the tree and proceeding to twist around her wrists, holding her in place and cutting painfully into her skin.

Juliet winced, but managed not to cry out in pain. Goyle approached her once more, the same maniacal smirk adorning his face.

"Prepare to meet your end, girl," he spat gleefully, pulling back the sleeve of his robes and exposing his left forearm. Realizing that he was about to summon the Dark Lord, Juliet felt as though she was going to be ill, or pass out—or both.

"You don't know what you're doing, Goyle!" she shrieked suddenly, thrashing around in her bonds. As she squirmed, she noticed that some of the ropes around her wrists were loosening from the movement, but she didn't dare allow even a glimmer of hope to cross her features. She continued to shout, hoping to stall Goyle long enough to get free. "You really think the Dark Lord will believe you, over me?"

Goyle laughed in her face. "I have been far more useful to the Dark Lord than you or your filthy half-blood father ever have! He will believe anything that I, a trusted, loyal servant, have to tell him!" Goyle turned back to his Dark Mark, moving one stubby finger towards it, and the words flew from Juliet's mouth before she could stop them.

"You're a fool for thinking that Harry Potter won't be the one to best you all, and V-Voldemort is no better!" Goyle's face contorted in pure, unadulterated rage, and he stormed towards Juliet, putting his face mere inches from hers.

"How _dare_ you insult the Dark Lord, you insolent little girl! How dare you speak his name!" Just as she had intended, Goyle's anger was causing his magic to falter. The enchanted ropes were slackening, slowly losing their grip on her. Struggling openly now, Juliet finally managed to free her wrists from their bonds, and before Goyle could react, she sprung forward. With all the power she could muster, Juliet punched him square on the nose.

It was a crude, violent, inherently _Muggle_ way of fighting, but it was all Juliet had in her arsenal. The shock of it was enough to send Goyle reeling a few steps backwards, and his wand flew from his grasp, landing several feet away, near the cliff.

Praying that he would remain disoriented just a moment longer, Juliet willed her feet to run, and she bolted. Before she had moved five feet though, something caught her by the wrist, and her raw skin twisted painfully. Biting back a yell, Juliet whirled around to face her captor.

Goyle's face had gone purple with exertion, but Juliet was still no match for him. He was a very large man—much larger than her, at any rate—and it was with relative ease that he caught her other wrist and pulled her towards him. Crying out in pain, Juliet swung her foot up and kicked the man, landing a decent blow right to his stomach. Goyle grunted and bent over a bit, but did not relinquish his hold on Juliet.

Slowly, he dragged her towards the cliff, where his wand was lying, waiting for his use. When they were right next to it, Goyle made the dire mistake of letting go of Juliet's wrists for a split second while he reached down to retrieve his wand.

In that moment, Juliet felt something change. She was no longer thinking clearly, no longer had control over her movements—her instinct to survive had completely taken over. She placed her hands firmly on Goyle's burly chest and, with all her might, she _pushed_.

He looked simply disbelieving for a moment, not even having time to register any sort of panic before he went careening backwards, over the edge and out of sight. Juliet watched as though at the other end of a tunnel, her mouth hanging open in shocked horror. Only when a sickening _crack _reached her ears was she jolted suddenly and unpleasantly back to reality.

She knew without looking that Goyle was dead. There were no screams of pain or cries for help, just deafening silence, broken only by the sounds of her own ragged breathing.

The world fading away around her, Juliet sank to her knees and began to sob. She did not stop for some time.

**(A/N: Oh, my. What's in store for dear Juliet now? You'll have to read the next chapter and see :D**

**Fun fact: All of the parts with Mr. Goyle in the story were originally supposed to be Rodolphus Lestrange, because we always knew Bellatrix had a husband, but we never saw him—he was only mentioned when talking about the torture of Frank and Alice Longbottom. Sadly, though, I wasn't sure if he was still in Azkaban or not at this point, so I decided to go with Goyle instead. **

**I'm going to start working on the next chapter today before I have to go to, you know, my actual job, so it may be out earlier than Wednesday if I get the itch to post it. Hope you enjoyed this one, as it's a personal favorite of mine, and be sure to leave a review!)**

**Loves, **

**ChasedByTheShadows **


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